That was what she was trying to make him understand. And if you dare to produce any kind of weapon at all,’ he added, taking a plain brass-barrelled little pistol from his own pocket and levelling it, ‘I will have no compunction in blowing off your head, you madcap female. What was the fellow about? Was he being imposed upon? He watched as the man Valade turned back, spreading his hands in the French way. Then she threw the volume away with a little impatient exclamation. Then he sat down again in a chair and said that people who wrote novels ought to be strung up. He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. Good-bye, for the pressent—ha! ha!" And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the Lodge. ” “He was probably right,” she declared. ’ ‘Mercy me,’ gasped the nun. He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt.
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