She didn’t faint. You’d never catch Verbeena Mayonnaise doing that. But really she felt an awful lot like it!
He changed her position again. This time he hung her head down.
She looked up into his eyes. (There was no help for it.) The monster laughed at her—laughed!
He was now, she saw, not only driving the horse with one hand and holding her upside down with the other, but had inserted a cigarette into an eighteen-inch amber holder clinched in his teeth.
And then, just to show her his class, he bent low until the end of his cigarette touched the tip of her fiery little sunburned nose, lighted the cigarette and all over again he laughed at her.
“You ——, ——!” she cried to him with a rush of words Brother Tawdry himself, could not have excelled.
“By Allah!” he smiled back at her, “what a game little divvle!”
Not being able to get a look at her wrist watch, Verbeena then lost all sense of time. She knew only that the sun was still up and burning her nose ingloriously. But she would resist to the last pulsation of her strong, young heart this desert creature of the strangely, burning passionate orbs. They were rather nice eyes but, he would find resistance to the last recalcitrant tissue of her turbulent nature.