The one I have is a duplicate. His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. Silken open robes over full tiffany petticoats in a contrasting colour were, Lucy assured him, of the very latest Parisian design, cut by the finest French tailors. That was one of the mysterious qualities of this child of the lagoon: she had always at instant service that Oriental mask of impenetrable calm that no Occidental trick could dislodge. He drew her away from this thought. He turned in at the club. Ruth came to him directly. I mean to have you! Don’t frown me off now.
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