The eyes left him, searching beside the chair for her cane. I will not trust you. 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. But it was not so ordered. ” “Oh. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. Then, seeing Melusine’s feathered beaver had fallen to the floor, picked that up for her. There was nothing to be learned from her face.
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