There were lines in her face that age had not put there. This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy. ” “That’s rather a pity,” Annabel said. ‘Do you think because you’ve managed to pull a gun on me—not to mention several daggers and a vicious little knife— that you can get away with it against a man who means business?’ ‘Do you think that the trigger I would not have pulled, or stuck the dagger into you, if you had not been as you are?’ she countered. Her faith in human beings revived. ” He too rose.
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