" "Why not?" "I am a thief, a hunted man. Lucy had been ignoring her, not purposefully, but noticeably. 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. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. Suddenly she thrust her head out of the window.
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