This was automatically rather than thoughtfully done; habit. Her heavy pistol came up again, although she did not rise. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. Ann Veronica stared for a moment in amazement at this dark-green object that clashed as it was put down. Behind them stalked Blueskin, enveloped in a rough great-coat, called—appropriately enough in this instance,—a wrap-rascal. “Is your husband here to-night?” he asked. ‘Which presupposes that she needs to hide at all.
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