” “That’s rather a fine sort of holiday!” He made no answer for three or four seconds. But although startled and clearly afraid, there was no self-consciousness in her gaze and she was standing her ground. All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that. The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. " "Waste not another word with him, Thames," cried Jack.
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