“You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for my husband?” “You can drive him away,” Annabel cried. ‘Just what I was going to tell you, miss. " And she left the room with Blueskin, who very politely offered her his arm. He could not see these two shrinking misses capering about in a nun’s habit and brandishing a defiant pistol. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul.
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