“Show me how to load it,” she urged. “Where are the cartridges?”
Without waiting for him to show her, she slid off the bed, went to the drawer and found the little wooden box.
“No,” he said, surprised at his own firmness. “You leave those alone. Put them back.”
She was looking at the shiny brass cylinders.
“Why?”
“I don’t want any accidents. Please put them back.”
She shrugged impatiently; but she put the box back and sat on the bed again. She picked up the Luger and pressed the trigger.
“Why doesn’t it work?” she asked, frowning.
“It’s stiff,” George said. “You have to pull very hard.”
She tried again, but she still couldn’t pull hack the trigger. “Here, I’ll show you,” George said, taking the gun from her. “Like this.”