"My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. “I might have muddled for a time. Her name was Rhea. At this juncture, a cry was raised by a servant from below, that the robbers were flying through the garden. He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. You’re a lady all right and tight, and nothing anyone does can take that away from you. Oh, to face facts! Gods! what a world it might be if people faced facts! Understanding! Understanding! There is no other salvation. " And he raised his arm with the intention of executing his purpose, when a ball from Jack's pistol passed through the back of his hand, shattering the limb. "There won't be much left for you," he said.
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