this criminal could condemn him to an unrelieved blackness through which, hideously scarred, he must grope henceforth, a thing repellent and past use.
The lights were centred upon his face. It struck him as ironic that their glare should hurt his eyes.
Suddenly Nora sprang forward. She stretched her hand towards Slim, but she didn't touch the bottle or his wrist, for the fluid filled the neck; was so close to the edge that a quick contact might have spilled it. George looked on, his hands in his pockets, his attitude expressing satisfaction at a just and long-deferred punishment.
Slim smiled at Nora. He moved the bottle a little. A drop fell. Something tortured the skin of Garth's cheek. It was as if an iron at white heat had been applied against his flesh with a strong pressure. The stuff was real enough.
Again Slim moved the bottle sluggishly, so that the liquid, ready to trickle out, was directly above Garth's eyes. Nora reached and closed her hands about the mouth.
"Look out!" George warned. "You'll get burnt."
"You see, George won't stand for that," Slim said slily.
"No, no, Slim!" Nora whispered. "I'll bargain."
"You're in a swell position to bargain," George scoffed.
The handcuffs cut into Garth's wrists.
