She smiled mechanically at the audience, holding her violin limply, feeling the hot lights on her made-up face. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth. Melusine came back to the present to discover that tears were rolling down her cheeks. ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. ” Sir John smiled. There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight.
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