Stanley pointed to the letter with a pipe he had drawn from his jacket pocket. At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour. He ignored her protests in order to pursue some impressive line of his own. Pah!’ She flounced about and, crossing to the bed, plonked down on it, pointedly averting her face and resting the large pistol in her lap. "There, Sir," she added, unlocking the door, "you can go in. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace.
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