The Women of Nell Gwynne's Read Online Free PDF

said Mr. Felmouth, as he went from one lamp to another, switching them back on. He sat down once more and, reaching into his bag, drew out what appeared to be a locket. "Here we are!"
    He held it up for their inspection. "Now, ladies, wouldn't you say that was a perfectly ordinary ornament?" Lady Beatrice leaned close to see it; Mrs. Corvey merely extended her optics.
    "I should have said so, yes," said Lady Beatrice. Mr. Felmouth raised his index finger, revealing the small hole in the locket's side, with a smaller protrusion a half-inch below.
    "No indeed, ladies. This is, rather, positively the last word in miniaturization. Behold." He opened it to reveal a tiny portrait. "And—" Mr. Felmouth thumbed a catch and the portrait swung up, to display a compartment beyond, in which were a minute steel barrel and spring mechanism. "A pistol! The trigger is this knob just below the muzzle. Hold it so —aim and fire. Though for best results I recommend firing point-blank, if at all possible."
    "Ingenious, I must say," said Mrs. Corvey. To Lady Beatrice she added, a little apologetically, "We do find ourselves in need of self-defense, now and then, you see."
    "But surely the bullet must be too small to do much harm," said Lady Beatrice.
    "You might think so," said Mr. Felmouth. He brought up an ammunition case, no bigger than a pillbox, and opened it to reveal a dozen tiny pin cartridges ranged in a rack, with a pair of tweezers for loading. "No bigger than flies, are they? However—one point three seconds after lodging in the target, they explode. Not with a quarter of the force of a Guy Fawkes squib, but should the bullet happened to be lodged in the brain or heart at the time, that would be quite enough to drop an assailant in his tracks."
    "I would fire into my assailant's ear," said Lady Beatrice thoughtfully. "The entrance wound would be undetectable, and anyone looking at him would suppose the man had died of a stroke."
    Mrs. Corvey and Mr. Felmouth stared at her. "I see you are not disposed to be squeamish, dear," said Mrs. Corvey at last. "You'll do very well."
    The Misses Devere came wandering sadly into the reception area, dressed in costumes representing a doll, Puss in
    Boots and a harlequin respectively. "Our four o'clock gentleman sent word to say he is unavoidably detained and can't come until tomorrow," said Jane, "and we can't get the catch on the back of Dora's costume unfastened. Lady Beatrice, will you see what you can do? Oh! Hello, Mr. Felmouth!" Jane skipped across the room and sat on his knee. "Have you brought us any toys, Father Christmas?"
    Mr. Felmouth, who had gone quite scarlet, sputtered a moment before managing to say "Er—yes, as it happens, I do have one or two more items. H'em! If you'll permit me..." He pulled the bag up on his other knee and took out a couple of the pasteboard cards of buttons generally to be found at notions shops. There were approximately a dozen buttons on each card. One set resembled oystershell pearl buttons; the others appeared to be amber glass.
    "The very thing for unruly customers," Mr. Felmouth said, waving the pearl buttons. "Sew them onto a garment, and they appear indistinguishable from ordinary buttons. They are, however, a profoundly strong sedative in a hard sugar shell. You have only to drop one of these in a glass of port wine, or indeed any beverage, and within seconds the button will dissolve. Any gentleman imbibing a wineglassful will fall into a profound sleep within minutes."
    "And the amber buttons?" inquired Lady Beatrice, who had risen and was unworking the catch on the back of the Puss in Boots costume.
    "Ah! These are really useful. One button, dissolved in a man's drink, will induce a state of talkative idiocy. Gently questioned, he will tell you anything, everything. Not all of it will be truthful, I suspect, but I am confident in your powers of discernment. When the drug wears off he will have absolutely no memory of the episode." Mr. Felmouth