She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. Beneath the hood it was evident that her rebellious hair was bound up with red silk, and fastened by some device in her ears (unless she had them pierced, which was too dreadful a thing to suppose!) were long brass filigree earrings. She frowned, appearing to think for a moment. Brendon looked across the room at her thoughtfully. Some Chinaman might take it into his head to shout: "Death to the foreign devils!" And out of that wall yonder would boil battle and murder and sudden death. ’ She edged sideways a little more, her eyes on the pistol in his hand. “And if I were you I would keep away from the fire. She said that in the note.
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