" Mrs. Only sat, staring at him, a puzzled look in her face. 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. Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. That Capes should love her seemed beyond the compass of her imagination. “Go on!” she commanded. " And, followed by the young couple, who gazed wistfully at the poor sufferer, he hastily quitted the room, and locked the door after him. She had not been sufficiently prompted in relation to the ways of caravansaries; but her mind had been alert and receptive.
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