She asked the inevitable question, the one she knew Michelle was waiting to field like a quarterback anticipating the pass. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. She had fallen into it naturally, the only expression of the dance she had ever seen or known, and that a stolen sweet. Was the girl seriously expecting him to pull the trigger? Lord, but she had courage! ‘Shoot, then,’ urged the lady. He mumbled an apology and then stopped short. She was slender, and sometimes she seemed tall, and walked and carried herself lightly and joyfully as one who commonly and habitually feels well, and sometimes she stooped a little and was preoccupied. The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases.
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