"Samson?"
"Why, yes. Didn't you realise that? Now perhaps you'll understand why we don't want this particular Samson pulling down the pillars of our temples."
"He may have heard what we said! He was walking back and forth part of the time as we talked."
"Who cares if he did hear? It would do him good—be a douche to cool his conceit."
At that instant the back of Severance's head was coldly douched. Something popped: something spurted. A jet of water sprayed over him, fizzing with such force that it blew his gold-laced Guards' cap over his eyes.
Marise and her mother were petrified. They could only gasp.
CHAPTER III
A CABIN WINDOW
After the first dazed instant, the girl had a wild inclination to laugh. She suppressed it with the explosive struggle of suppressing a sneeze. Poor, dear Tony! It would be cruel to make fun of him, more cruel than if the top of his head had been blown off! For him—especially at this moment of his high boasting—it was tragic to be made ridiculous. But it was funny—frightfully funny—to see his expression of stunned rage at the accident, as he dried his face and hair with a faintly fragrant, monogramed handkerchief, and wiped something fizzing out of his eyes.