On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. ” “And I may bring my luggage in and send that cabman away?” Anna asked. She gloried in it: he needed her. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. He must have married when he was quite a young man. She kissed him on the bridge of his nose. He had a narrow escape, however; for, passing within an inch of him, the bullet burried itself deeply in the wall. “With your permission I should like to search the remainder of your rooms. It's a thousand pities to hang so pretty a fellow. ” There followed an instant’s pause, and then Ann Veronica had decided to misunderstand.
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