" "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. Besides, this is an affair which no one but myself can settle. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. Hell's curses! that after all my precautions I should be thus entrapped. E. "She wouldn't let me go. I’ve to collect my sword and hat, and then we must get back to London.
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