127 “But Mary Lucia, it isn’t what it looks like! She’s an old friend, there’s nothing serious going on!” Without a word, she about-faced and flew down his steps, running fast, jumping four steps at a time. Eluding the blow, Jack plucked his sword from the scabbard, and a desperate conflict began. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. She glanced at the Frenchman, and found him struggling with the portrait that was embedded around his scalp. ‘I trust you were not altogether disgusted when I kissed you. When I've had an hour's rest, I'll be after Blueskin. She had never let off a pistol in her life. Thames did not attempt to offer him any consolation, for he was almost as much dejected.
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