But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. You might tell the truth to some men, but never to him. His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. When they made love, he seemed to shift into the realm of possessiveness. Things hung for a moment in an awkward silence. To be complete, my vengeance must be tardy. Ann Veronica decided that “hoydenish ragger” was the only phrase to express her. ” “Oh. ” She peered at him through the semi-blackness. ” “I am highly flattered,” she remarked, with subtle irony. ’ Gerald could not resist.
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