“But——”
“Listen!” said Sam. “If those trousers are not delivered to me f. o. b. in thirty seconds, I’ll bust you one!”
He had them in eighteen.
“Now,” said Sam, “I think you’ll find it a little difficult to get away.”
He gathered up the garments, draped them over his arm and went down to the kitchen.
§ 2
Love is the master passion. It had come to Hash Todhunter late, but, like measles, the more violent for the delay. A natural inclination to go upstairs and rend his recent aggressor limb from limb faded before the more imperious urge to dash across to San Rafael and see Claire. It was the first thing of which he spoke when Sam, with the aid of a carving knife, had cut his bonds.
“Are you hurt, Hash?”
“No, ’e only ’it me on the ’ead. I got to see ’er, Sam.”