He did not pocket it, but sat hefting it lightly from hand to hand, watching the girl thoughtfully. And if you dare to produce any kind of weapon at all,’ he added, taking a plain brass-barrelled little pistol from his own pocket and levelling it, ‘I will have no compunction in blowing off your head, you madcap female. ’ He thought a wary look came into her face, but it was difficult to be sure. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. . That is I saw her. " "Nonsense," returned Jonathan gruffly.
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