She made up her mind in the train home that it should be a decisive crisis. 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. . ’ ‘How do I know that?’ demanded Jack. All right really. “Thank you, Martin,” she replied graciously. Capes scored back with an uncompromising vigor that was his way of complimenting her intelligence. ’ Her face fell.
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