"Yes. And he was going to do lots of other horrid things, too. Tell Monsieur Charretier—and let my cousins come and find me at the Hotel Athenée, in Paris, and—"
"He won't do any of them. But there are several things I am going to do to him. Go away, my child. Run off to the house, as quick as you can."
I gasped. "What are you going to do to him?"
"Don't worry. I shan't hurt him nearly as much as he deserves. I'm only going to do what the Head must have neglected to do to him at school."
“Jack's hand, inside Mr. Stokes's beautiful, tall collar, shook Bertie back and forth until his teeth chattered like castanets”
Bertie had come out into the woods with a neat little stick, which during part of our conversation he had tucked jauntily under his arm. It now lay on the ground. I saw Jack glance at it.