‘At me,’ she uttered, holding her own pistol high and aiming it steadily. “Let me help you,” he begged. He took a handful of almonds and raisins that she held out to him—for both these young people had given up the practice of going out for luncheon—and kept her hand for a moment to kiss her finger-tips. Lord help him! he's the very image of his father. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. ‘I can take care of myself, bête. I thought then perhaps you didn’t care, that you were like so many of them. If he could keep it up—style and calibre of imagination—within a year the name of Taber would become widely known. He got up brusquely. 270 “Curse that boy!” He chuckled and stomped the water.
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