Then she went into the office. And if you dare to produce any kind of weapon at all,’ he added, taking a plain brass-barrelled little pistol from his own pocket and levelling it, ‘I will have no compunction in blowing off your head, you madcap female. From the first of these alighted Thames, or, as he must now be styled, the Marquis de Chatillon. Lucy sized up the girl.
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