“Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. The doors were closed and barricaded, and the mob threatened to burst them open if Jack was not delivered to them. Ice had begun to form in the shallows. 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. And don’t talk until we’re well out of earshot.
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