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Furiously, she dashed his hands away. Her defence ceased rapidly to be in any sense ladylike, and became vigorous and effective; a strand of black hair that had escaped its hairpins came athwart Ramage’s eyes, and then the knuckles of a small but very hardly clinched fist had thrust itself with extreme effectiveness and painfulness under his jawbone and ear. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. Why do women take to lies and deceit and trickery as naturally as a duck to water?” “You are not alluding, I hope, to Miss Pellissier?” Ennison said stiffly. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension.
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