"
He gave a short laugh.
"Revolver!" exclaimed Mrs. Maldon, intimidated by the mere name. Then
she smiled, in an effort to reassure herself. "Louis, you are a tease.
You really shouldn't tease me."
"I'm not," said Louis, with that careful air of false blank
casualness which he would invariably employ for his more breath-taking
announcements. "I always carry a loaded revolver."
The fearful word "loaded" sank into the heart of the old woman, and
thrilled her. It was a fact that for some weeks past Louis had been
carrying a revolver. At intervals the craze for firearms seizes the
fashionable youth of a provincial town, like the craze for marbles
at school, and then dies away. In the present instance it had been
originated by the misadventure of a dandy with an out-of-work artisan
on the fringe of Hanbridge. Nothing could be more correct than for
a man of spirit and fashion thus to arm himself in order to cow the
lower orders and so cope with the threatened social revolution.
"You _don't_, Louis!" Mrs. Maldon deprecated.
"I'll show you," said Louis, feeling in his hip pocket.
"_Please_!" protested Mrs. Maldon, and Rachel covered her face
with her hands and drew back from Louis' sinister gesture.
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