The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. "I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily. "Enough!" cried Jonathan, eagerly pocketing the memorandum. “Please make yourselves comfortable while I see to the coffee.
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