"Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. Are you quite shure you haven't another alyas, Masther Thames Ditton?" "Darrell, I tell you. I have always managed to survive, haven’t I?” She was eager to stop talking about her parents. Sheila grabbed the gun and laughed hysterically, brandishing the weapon and baying like a bear. ‘I don’t want that girl running her head into any more danger. Her depression since the “accident” had possessed her, she no longer cared how she looked as her beauty helped her not.
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