To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. Michelle blinked rapidly and Lucy could hear her heart speeding up. There was no mistaking his intentions this time. It was your sister who married Sir John Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t it?” Anna nodded. Mike seemed visibly happier at her remark. CHAPTER XVIII. She infused menace into her voice.
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