You will be with me. 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. It may not be just, it may not be fair, but things are so. The room they were in was a sort of closet, with the door locked outside; but this was only a moment's obstacle to Jack, who with a chisel forced back the bolt. "Here," repeated her brother. This was the first young man who had drawn from her something more than speculative interest.
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