” “Blood of my heart!” whispered Capes, holding her close to him. He was in misery; he was paying for last night's debauch. ‘I think it is better if I hold the pistol. ’ Gerald dropped down to join her just as her hand came up, clutching the handle. He did not pocket it, but sat hefting it lightly from hand to hand, watching the girl thoughtfully. . ‘As I have said, it was a quarrel between the vicomte and Monsieur Charvill. She gasped with pain, but she did not release her grip.
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