Explore "Quicksands" by B.M. Croker on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Good God, Eva!" exclaimed Ronnie. "What do you mean by creeping on me like this?"
My answer was to throw myself with all my force upon his wrist and wrench the revolver out of his hand. He rose unsteadily, and stared at me. The expression on his face was something inhuman and terrible -- and I could see that he was trembling from head to foot.