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Collins, Wilkie, 1824-1889

"Miss or Mrs?"

"
There was a pause. They heard his hand sounding the wall, to find out
where there was solid wood in the material of which it was built, and
where there was plaster only. At that dreadful moment Launce's composure
never left him. He laid Sir Joseph softly on the floor, and signed to
Natalie and her aunt to lie down by him in silence. Their lives depended
now on neither their voices nor their movements telling the murderer
where to fire. He chose his place. The barrel of the revolver grated
as he laid it against the wall. He touched the hair trigger. A faint
_click_ was the only sound that followed. The third barrel had missed
fire.
They heard him ask himself, with an oath, "What's wrong with it now?"
There was a pause of silence.
Was he examining the weapon?
Before they could ask themselves the question, the report of the
exploding charge burst on their ears. It was instantly followed by a
heavy fall. They looked at the opposite wall of the room. No sign of a
bullet there or anywhere.
Launce signed to them not to move yet.


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