Next instant, Gerald felt his wrist seized in an iron grip. ’ ‘Oh, don’t I? What do you have under all those petticoats, a holster?’ ‘But yes, and they are empty. To-night they say he will be conscious. 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. ’ ‘Eh bien, you are not a saint,’ Melusine snapped. You can purchase the information from me whenever you're so disposed.
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