This is altogether insupportable. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. Capes stood side by side upon an old Persian carpet that did duty as a hearthrug in the dining-room of their flat and surveyed a shining dinner-table set for four people, lit by skilfully-shaded electric lights, brightened by frequent gleams of silver, and carefully and simply adorned with sweet-pea blossom. He was a tall man and fair, with bluish eyes that were rather protuberant, and long white hands of which he made a display. ‘I cannot possibly shoot a lady, you know. ‘You, soldiers,’ she yelled. Better even than these. It'll be your turn to save mine next. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. He had no use for Ann Veronica; he had never had a use for her since she had been too old to sit upon his knee. Fifty sent home.
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