" "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. It’s a world in which the law can be a stupid pig and the police-stations dirty dens. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. This employment seemed to afford him the highest satisfaction; for a diabolical grin—it cannot be called a smile—played upon his face all the time he was engaged in it.
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