"The door!—the door!—death!" he added, as he tried the handle, "it is locked—and I am unarmed. "I told you I was not unprotected. He reached a silver cigar and cigarette box from the sideboard and put it before his father-in-law, and for a time the preliminaries of smoking occupied them both. "I don't deserve it," he said, at length; "but I would have risked a thousand deaths to enjoy this moment's happiness. ‘This is altogether insupportable!’ She dug a hand into the recesses of the petticoat of her riding habit and a moment later Gerald found himself once again confronting the barrel of her overlarge and tarnished pistol.
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