‘You make a game with me, I think. Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. And all this time perhaps you have been waiting, expecting to hear from me. He was dressed with the utmost care, and he set his feet upon the broad walk as though the action were in some way a condescension. She had never experienced anything so disagreeable in her life as the sense of being held helplessly off her feet. What could she do? Reluctantly, at a second curt command, she began to step across the uncarpeted floor, her eyes never leaving the threatening pistol. ‘Am I a fool? Can I blow off a head with a pistol which is not loaded?’ ‘She has a point,’ conceded Alderley, relaxing a little as amusement burgeoned again ‘Ten to one she is a French spy,’ burst from Roding.
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