’ ‘Then who is this Englishman?’ demanded Gerald on a sceptical note. ” Lucy begged. 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. Hanging on the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a lotus blossom with stem and leaves—deadly as a club. ‘She wouldn’t tell me. Or I should say—’ ‘Eugenia,’ cut in Gerald grimly. .
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