In her eyes was hunger. It was a living,
palpitant part of her now as she stared at the things which Bram
had taken from the dunnage bag--as surely as Bram's madness was a
part of him. As Philip watched her he knew that slowly the curtain
was rising on the tragedy of the golden snare. In a way the look
that he saw in her face shocked him more than anything that he had
seen in Bram's. It was as if, in fact, a curtain had lifted before
his eyes revealing to him an unbelievable truth, and something of
the hell through which she had gone. She was hungry--FOR SOMETHING
THAT WAS NOT FLESH! Swiftly the thought flashed upon him why the
wolf-man had traveled so far to the south, and why he had attacked
him for possession of his food supply. It was that he might bring
these things to the girl. He knew that it was sex-pride that
restrained the impulse that was pounding in every vein of her
body. She wanted to fling herself down on her knees beside that
pile of stuff--but she remembered HIM! Her eyes met his, and the
shame of her confession swept in a crimson flood into her face.
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