I can't give you my hand; but you may take it. ’ Exasperated, Gerald glared at her. Wood. E. You may enjoy your pride, your arrogance—in a coffin. It seemed to encapsulate the mosquito like a little piece of moonlight, it was talismanic to her. ‘This is altogether insupportable!’ She dug a hand into the recesses of the petticoat of her riding habit and a moment later Gerald found himself once again confronting the barrel of her overlarge and tarnished pistol. The order was promptly obeyed, and the horses proceeded at a furious pace along the Edgeware Road.
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