And sometimes he overflowed with a peculiarly malignant wit that played, with devastating effect, upon any topics that had the courage to face it. There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight. ‘Mademoiselle. You'll find her at Black Mary's Hole. How I could have been such a fool I’ll never know. The smile had become a laugh. It does not matter to him either way. “Mr. Jack may be capable of much that is wicked, but he would never lift his hand against his friend,—of that I am assured. Wood.
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