" "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. I’m minded to take a whip and beat some sense into you. He was, in fact, quite eager to go on living. They conversed, or more or less she interviewed him. "It is too late. She would not be driven in by this persistent, sneaking aggression. Might we ask you if you have ever seen him, if you knew him at all before this evening?” She stood up suddenly, and turning her back to them, looked steadily out of the window.
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