" "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. I love you all the more for the streak of sheer devil in you. “I don’t think you can have heard me, Vee,” he said, with intensely controlled fury. “She’s proclaimed herself queen of the school.
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