‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. Confidence in himself would strengthen him. She wished her father and aunt would not enjoy their dinner with such quiet determination. ’ ‘Uh-oh,’ came from her infuriating suitor and his eyes dropped to the weapon she was dragging from the holster under her petticoat. . . . She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. A man might be without relatives, but certainly he would not be without friends, that is to say, without letters. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. Never any doubt of it.
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