Her husband quickly joined the fray, making her giggle and laugh. Nigel Ennison was he. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda. "I shall want nothing more. Where's the dining room? And, say, can I have some eggs? This jam-tea breakfast gets my goat. I should say that you owed me considerable. You just married her. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt.
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