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"Oh no—no! You say this to terrify me—to try me. ” He adjusted his glasses on his nose. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be. She had thought to wear it now, since she must look more the demoiselle. For fully five minutes he lay quite motionless. A spacious suite of rooms down the hall John described as “my parents love den” with a grimace as Lucy smiled. A small handgun bobbed at the end of it, aimed at Sheila.
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