Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked. . The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. It was at his side below the breast, hidden by the dark colour of his close-fitting jacket. “I wonder!” said Miss Stanley. ‘I thought it was his great-nephew, young Brewis Charvill, who is his heir. I love some one else. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. ’ ‘As we see. Maggot.
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