Instinctively he stepped back. Then, as he recovered from his surprise he laughed: "You little devil! So that's the stuff you're made of. Well, I like it. Put that toy away and come back immediately. If you don't I'll take that paper from you if I have to tear the clothes off your back."
"If you touch me, I'll shoot you!" she cried between her teeth.
As she spoke Despard jumped forward and hit up her arm. But she kept a tight grip on the revolver. He tried to snatch it from her. They struggled.
"Let me go, or I'll shoot!" she panted. "I warn you! I'll kill you!"
Neither of them heard footsteps outside, nor the ringing of the front-door bell.
Despard seized the hand which held the revolver and slowly forced it back. A faint cry of agony escaped Ruby as she felt her wrist twisting.
Suddenly there was a sharp report. The revolver rattled to the ground. Ruby ceased struggling, twirled round, then fell in a heap at Despard's feet.
The front-door bell rang again. There was a loud knocking. Despard stood staring at the limp body at his feet. Then he knelt down and seized Ruby's hands—spoke to her. He felt for her heart—and his fingers touched something warm and wet.
There were voices outside shouting for admittance. He rose to his feet and gazed round. There was no help for it—he would have to open the door.
He did so.