" "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. “Eight, Cavendish Square. Spurlock slept on. He came down the shop looking for her quite obviously, and took up a position on the other side against a mirror in which he was able to regard her steadfastly. ’ Sheer exasperation made Gerald release her as he broke into reluctant laughter. “Not a bit. I am sure I never enjoyed so much popularity in my life. Her voice was weak and flat.
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