"I am. “She wasn’t sane, my wife. . She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. . At the first glance, he imagined he must have stumbled upon a museum of rarities, there were so many glass-cases, so many open cabinets, ranged against the walls; but the next convinced him that if Jonathan was a virtuoso, his tastes did not run in the ordinary channels. "Don't fire," cried the latter. .
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