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. ’ ‘The tables, they are turned, I think,’ she returned. Courtlaw opened his lips, but remained silent in the face of her imperative gesture. I think over all sorts of things. But Melusine’s own words had thrown an idea into her head.
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