" "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. Clarice was from Lombardy, fair-haired and light skinned. She examined Michelle’s pale face. ‘I know just what he was doing. ‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. Next instant, Melusine’s blade sank into Gosse’s flesh. But the great point was still unaccomplished. Cathy reached out and touched Lucy’s chin with her two fingers, gently commanding her attention.
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