’ ‘What for?’ asked Gerald, half laughing, as he put his hand in his pocket and brought out his elegant pistol. While he thus vented his rage, the door again opened, and Quilt Arnold rushed into the room, bleeding, and half-dressed. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. Advancing towards him, he made him a formal salutation, which was coldly returned. It was a purse. To make sure work of it, I'll superintend the job myself. You have threatened to kill me for nothing, I know not how many times.
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