But she did not know what he knew, that it would always be rolling up, enlivened by suggestion, no matter how trifling. ‘Damnation!’ Confused, he released her, and in an instant she had darted away and was running down the garden. Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins. Do I blow off the head of a man with whom I am in love?’ ‘That,’ said Gerald, disengaging his hand and at last drawing her into his arms, ‘deserves a reward. Ann Veronica decided that “hoydenish ragger” was the only phrase to express her.
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