’ ‘What about this Leonardo fellow?’ Hilary asked, still frowning heavily. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. ‘Might have forgiven him,’ he muttered under his breath, ‘if he hadn’t taken the babe. "What is a sing-song girl?" she asked. So the talk went on, and presently they were criticising novelists, and certain daring essays of Wilkins got their due share of attention, and then they were discussing the future of the theatre. She might scream until her voice failed; the natives would not come to her aid; they never meddled with the affairs of the whites. She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat. “You are absurd,” she declared.
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