” He stalked around the room. Twenty-one, twenty-two. What better way to be rid of him? ‘Jacques,’ she uttered urgently. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. He looked fiercely and inquiringly from one to the other of his companions; but, though both of them were excessively frightened, neither appeared guilty. She fled. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. "I say," retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very unfeminine imprecation, "I shan't stand any more of that nonsense.
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