See paragraph 1. Slowly she released the hammer on the pistol, uncocking it, and Gerald became conscious that he had been holding his breath. “Come in here a moment, will you, Blanche,” he said. ” She smiled at him cheerfully. She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair. 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. Kneebone, I came hither as your guest. Spurlock knew exactly what he was doing, however: speculative mischief, to see how she would act. She was perfectly aware that the boy had gotten some sort of bug in his craw over her despite her sloppy, strange appearance.
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