The lace was family lace, easily recognizable. Neither the American Express nor Cook's had received mail for Howard Taber; he was not on either list. And if you dare to produce any kind of weapon at all,’ he added, taking a plain brass-barrelled little pistol from his own pocket and levelling it, ‘I will have no compunction in blowing off your head, you madcap female. His spirits revived, and encouraging himself with the idea that the present impediment, though the greatest, was the last, he set himself seriously to consider how it might best be overcome. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. Courtlaw.
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