“Now don’t get excited. I won’t hurt it. I like to look at pictures——”
She tore at his left arm, which blocked her like a steel bar.
“You—you—gimme that—paper!” she panted. “If you don’t I’ll—I’ll scratch!”
He shot a shrewd glance at her furious face and at the slender, long-nailed fingers now poising in curving menace. The restraining arm gave way suddenly—so suddenly that she pitched forward. In one flashing instant that arm had looped around her and pinned her against him, her own arms blocked by his body.
“You little wildcat, I believe you would,” he nodded. “But I really haven’t finished looking at the picture. So behave yourself. Now let’s see—there’s a hemlock—good, too! And the rock edge along—no, that’s not so good. But still, I can easily see what it’s meant for, and—— Behave, I say!”
Writhing, wrenching, heaving, she was fighting like a mad thing to break his hold and free her hands. His arm only crushed her tighter. Tears of helpless anger welled into her eyes. All at once her head dropped on his shoulder.
“There, don’t cry.” He loosened his hold. “I’ll give it right—— Ouch!”
Instead of weeping on his shoulder she was biting it. He dropped the board and lurched upward, drawing her with him. She lifted her head and laughed out wildly.
“Guess you’ll let me go now, won’t you?” she taunted.
His jaw set. His right arm, too, swept around her, holding her loosely, yet close.