"It's better," observed Sheppard, meaningly. Then a surge of rage welled up. ‘Gérard, you are a great fool. It was you, of course, whom he wanted. She looked up quickly. I'll bet you haven't given her a bucket of paint in three years. 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. Mr. ” Sir John’s reply was incoherent. And probably the girl would wear herself out, too. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.
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