She made noises between weeping and laughter as she went. ” Sir John looked at her sideways. It was the crowned queen of mountains in her robes of shining white. ‘How disappointing,’ mourned Gerald. ‘She wants me to marry her. Fly! they shall knock me on the head—curse 'em!—before they shall touch you. "Certainly not," replied Gay. Pah!’ She flounced about and, crossing to the bed, plonked down on it, pointedly averting her face and resting the large pistol in her lap. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. ‘But then again, possibly not.
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