"G-g-g--" snarled the other and loosed his grip.
Jan relaxed the grip of his thumb and forefinger, swung the man round,
walked to the head of the stairs, raised his left knee, pressed it
against the small of Goles's back, shifted his right hand to behind the
man's shoulders and suddenly let knee and arm shoot out together. In one
magnificent curve, and without touching a step on the way, Goles fetched
up on the lower hall floor.
He stood up after a while and made as if to come back upstairs. As he
did so Jan made as if to go down.
Goles glared up at him.
"So it is you!"
"Yes, it's me," said Jan. "Come!"
"Come? No! But you wait there, will you? Just wait there and see what
happens to you! Wait!" And even as he called that last "Wait!" he was
running for the back stairs.
Jan turned to her. She was sitting on the floor with her back against
the stair-rail. Her knees were drawn up, and with elbows on knees she
was supporting her head in her hands.
"Where is he gone to?" asked Jan.
"I don't know--to get his revolver probably."
Jan bent over to see her face. A great listlessness was all he could
read there.
"Would he shoot? Did he ever shoot anybody?"
"Yes--two. But the police never found out. You'd better get out while
there's time."
"And won't he shoot you?"
She raised her head to look at him. "No," she answered presently--"not
just now.
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