CHAPTER XVI.
"Good heavens!" he said, appalled, and dropped his suit case with a crash.
"W-what are you d-doing--" She controlled her voice and the wavering weapon with an effort.

"What are you doing in this house ?" "Doing?
In _this_ house ?" he repeated, his eyes protruding in the direction of the unsteady pistol muzzle.

"What are _you_ doing in this house--if you don't mind saying!" "I--I m-must ask you to put up your hands," she said.

"If you move I shall certainly s-shoot off this pistol." "It will go off, anyway, if you handle it like that!" he said, exasperated.

"What do you mean by pointing it at me ?" "I mean to fire it off in a few moments if you don't raise your hands above your head!" He looked at the pistol; it was new and shiny; he looked at the athletic young figure silhouetted against the brilliant light.
"Well, if you make a point of it, of course." He slowly held up both hands, higher, then higher still.