Two shots were fired at him by Jonathan; one of which passed through his hat, and the other through the fleshy part of his arm; but he made good his retreat. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. ‘While you are making me this interrogation, my poor Jacques bleeds to death. Save my seat. ’ ‘But it was not your fault,’ protested Gosse, shocked. "How very like it is!" "Not so strange, surely," laughed Thames, "that a picture should resemble the person for whom it's intended. Insulting cries became frequent and various, but for the most part she could not understand what was said. . Ennison looked down on him in disgust. Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. “Close your eyes. ‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary.
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