At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her. Depend upon it, there is a place for you—waiting. 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.
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