"Brute, you are hurting me!" she wailed.
"Not half so much as you have hurt some people I could mention!" he retorted hotly. "You are my prisoner, you vixen!"
For a moment the big dark eyes blazed unutterable hatred, and then she laughed aloud.
The unrestrained laugh of a German woman is the index to the German character. It is one of the most horribly unmusical sounds on earth.
"You shall never take me alive!" she hissed.
"And there I beg to differ; I have taken you, though how long you will remain alive will rest with the higher powers."
He kicked the Browning which she had dropped aside with his foot, and for an instant she struggled with a violence that surprised him, giving vent to a piercing shriek which brought several soldiers running to the spot. Among them was one of the Military Police.
"Your handcuffs, my man!" said Dennis, "this is one of the most dangerous German spies at large. I accept all responsibility for my action, but I am going to take her to our Brigade Headquarters for further identification."
A Red Cross nurse is a very sacred personality to the British soldier, but Dennis's voice carried conviction with it, although the artful jade made a bold bid for liberty.
She ceased her struggles and said in a plaintive tone without a trace of foreign accent, "It is a wicked mistake. I am a Welsh woman, and my name is Margaret Jones. The Sister on the train will bear witness for me."