Her hair was held back in a filigreed barrette. Sebastian slowed the car after they had traveled seventy miles into the countryside. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. Ann Veronica’s tense nerves started, and she stood still with her eyes upon him, wondering what it might be that impended. The likeness was ridiculous. I must practise what I preach. Should be home soon. She was honest again. ‘Do not be alarmed, Jacques. What is your father's business?" The question was an impertinence, but Ruth was not aware of that. " "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. Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears.
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