” “Nor I. ’ She simpered, and withdrew one hand so that she might smack his fingers playfully. And put ‘em in little books for remembrance. Neither you nor your mother shall escape me. ” He stood up rather close to her and looked into her eyes. “Nice sleeve,” she said, and came to his hand and kissed it. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. “I am going to ignore it. ‘At me,’ she uttered, holding her own pistol high and aiming it steadily. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. ” The tall young man dropped his eye-glass and smiled. The man’s hand flashed out, but immediately afterwards an oath and a cry of pain broke from his lips.
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