“There was an accident with a pistol in Miss Pellissier’s room,” he said. “Too greasy for me. "Though you lorded it over that fond fool, Mrs. Ramage pursed his rather loose lips and shrugged his shoulders, with his eyes fixed steadily upon her. Though they do, in secret, I believe. ‘Ah, yes? To what do I pretend?’ ‘That,’ Gerald said regretfully, ‘I have not yet been able to fathom. It now occurred to him that she had always been fully dressed. But his words were borne away by the driving wind. 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. She donned her gloves. Such was the condition of his mind that the danger exhilarated rather than depressed him.
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