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. Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. “See you to-night, I suppose?” He sauntered off. But the first one was brought home, and it was the beginning of the end. "Lost no time on the road—eh!—I didn't expect you till to-morrow at the earliest.
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