Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness. Wood laughed louder than ever. ‘Speak, then. . She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother. “He wants to settle something on you, I believe. Not a bad man as men go, but he would sell whisky and gin. " "On no account," rejoined Wood peremptorily. It appeared he had already ordered dinner and wine, and the whiskered waiter waved in his subordinate with the soup forthwith.
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