To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. She worried for her father in Mantua, 28 hoping that he was still alive. “This isn’t a world for an innocent girl to walk about in. ’ ‘I didn’t bring him,’ Gerald returned swiftly. I asked him why, and he hadn’t a reason. I——” Then he stopped short, for he began to remember things. The men have never had so much work to do since they banded. I know London better than you, and I have had to earn my own living. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. ‘That’s what started the fracas,’ Gerald admitted ruefully, nursing his injured hand as he recalled it. Spurlock lay with his head on his arms, asleep.
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