Her wrist was caught in a clutch that seemed to crush the muscles, and she was flung back on to the chair. Terror would not let the scream pass her lips: she lay with open mouth and staring eyes.
Rodman looked at her for an instant, then seemed to master his fury and laughed.
‘That doesn’t improve your beauty. Now, no crying out before you’re hurt. There’s no harm done. Only you’ve to learn that I mean what I say, that’s all. Now I haven’t hurt you, so don’t pretend.’
‘Oh, you have hurt me!’ she sobbed wretchedly, with her fingers round her injured wrist. ‘I never thought you could be so cruel. Oh, my hand! What harm have I done? And you used to say you’d never be unkind to me, never! Oh, how miserable I am! Is this how you’re going to treat me? As if I could help it! Willis, you won’t begin to be cruel? Oh, my hand!’
‘Let me look at it. Pooh, what’s amiss?’ He spoke all at once in his usual good-natured voice. ‘Now go and find Adela, whilst I wait here.’
‘You’re going to force me to do that?’
‘You’re going to do it. Now don’t make me angry again.’
She rose, frightened again by his look. She took a step or two, then turned back to him.
‘If I do this, will you be kind to me, the same as before?’
‘Of course I will. You don’t take me for a brute?’