The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service. "Then, by Heaven! you are a dead man!" replied Jack, cocking a pistol, and pointing it deliberately at his head. “Don’t be childish, Annabel. ’ ‘I think he only wants to help you, miss,’ offered Jack. He was alarmed when she returned to the stage and her eyes passed over him in the audience.
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