The spikes almost touched the upper part of the hatch: scarcely space enough for the passage of a hand being left between their points and the beam. The lips of the mask twisted upward into a smile. She tied the obi clumsily about her waist, then gently laid her hand on the bowed head. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. ” A little blond creature close at hand suddenly gave way to a fit of hysterical laughter, and caught up the end of it with a sob.
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