" "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. In the first place there were not so many suitable advertisements as she had expected. The delay was only momentary. I know what I am doing better than you do. He recognised Anna, and at once addressed her. . ” “I am very much afraid,” Anna answered, “that it was. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. His noble Florentine roots went back a thousand years, to the days of grand Rome herself. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. \" he replied, though it was obvious that he was lying.
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