The voice, too, when he spoke, was as deep and as fierce as the growl of a beast of prey.
They were not our prey, for they would not rise at a fly, and we knew it.
And yet, we all agree in one object of our being—all prey on each other!
In less than a year after his return to Silsea, he died—a prey to remorse.
Then would the voice especially claim us for its prey, and rend ...