She sank upon her knees and unbuttoned his coat. " "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. But he seized the chance to entrap her fingers, fan and all, and look deeply into her eyes. '—'They can't,' says I. ’ ‘She again?’ enquired his hostess, her delicate brows rising ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. ” “But what are you going to do—where are you going to live?” Annabel asked.
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