‘Looks like it. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. On the other hand, there was a subconscious impression that she would be able to read instantly anything unclean in a man's eye. She frowned, appearing to think for a moment. But he had scarcely advanced a step, when he was felled to the ground by a blow from the powerful arm of Kneebone, who, instantly possessing himself of a pistol, levelled it at Jackson's head.
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