She had not at first the power for concealment. 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. I’ve to collect my sword and hat, and then we must get back to London. What a girl of sixteen cares for is hair and a high color and moonlight and a tenor voice. There was a black fear in his heart.
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