“Better think no more about it.” Julia, having subdued her keeper, felt a pang of remorse and pity. “Take my advice and go to Bosquith for the shooting —”
“And see that brat?”
“The duke will think the more of you. Remember he is not compelled to allow you a thousand a year. He has a sensitive vanity, and resents lack of attention. Besides, the sport will do you good.”
“And you?”
“I shall stay here.”
“And never leave the place?”
“I shall go to London for the day whenever I choose, and I shall ride and walk about the country. I have no desire to see any of my neighbors.”
“Very well. I’ll go. I’ve got to pull myself together. I can’t do it here. I’m still off my feed, or you wouldn’t have bowled me over like this. Before I come back, I’ll have thought out how to deal with you —”
Julia tapped the pistol again. “I have five others. I shall conceal them in different parts of the house, and carry this always.”
France gave a strangled cry and began to curse, with reviving enthusiasm.