But you must tell her. A small handgun bobbed at the end of it, aimed at Sheila. Anna felt that her words had become charged with a fuller and more subtle meaning than any which she had intended to impart. That is very bad, certainly, and for this he was extremely sorry. And I have no more the pistol. I offered myself as a clerk, as a milliner, as a shop girl. ‘She won’t like it,’ prophesied the captain gloomily. He suggested they take the remains of the household to his country estate, where he could at least hunt through the winter to provide them venison and grouse.
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