“Oh,” said Annabelle, her voice shrill in the darkness, “Oh, you’ve got a revolver!”
In the instant paralysis while his slowed mind registered the astonishing fact that the girl he intended to silence was here, and not where he expected her to be, upstairs asleep in her room, a second shadow streaked out of the blackness and a blow under his wrist sent the weapon spinning out of his grasp. Immediately afterwards a fist crashed into his face, catching him under the cheekbone.
The scoop dropped out of his hand and rolled away into the dry darkness and he struck out savagely, to meet a whirlwind. Richard plunged into the fight as some small men do with a reckless belligerence which offsets almost any disadvantage. He was used to giving away enormous amounts of weight and his reach was inade
