All the fury had left her, swamped by an inexplicable flood of warmth. “I saw him stagger and sink down, and the pistol was smoking still in my hand. ” Ann Veronica agreed, and tried to make the manner of her assent cover a possible knowledge of a probable poem. Coarse as were the ruffian's notions of feminine beauty, he could not be insensible to the surpassing loveliness of the fair creature, who had thus solicited his attention. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom. She was looking about her, and her face was dark with anger.
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