Arthur W. Marchmont, A Dash for a Throne
“ Minna, do you hear? For God's sake, have mercy," and he caught hold of her dress and clung to her—the type of broken, abject, fright-becrazed cowardice."Don't touch me!" she cried. "Your hands are red with my brother's blood.""Get up, you crawling, unclean brute, and cease your whining," said Praga, dragging him to his feet."Don't let him be killed, cousin Hans," whispered Minna. "He is not fit to die. But, oh, take me away. This scene is killing me," she cried in distress.At that von Nauheim broke out with more pleas and entreaties, his voice shaking as he trembled in his fear. ”
