"I'll carry you," said Donovan.
"You won't be able, not after such a night; besides, I don't believe you could, anyhow. You're getting flabby from lack of exercise."
"Am I?" cried Donovan. "Let's see, anyway."
He darted at her, slipped an arm under her skirts and another under her arms, and lifted her bodily from the chair.
"Jack," she shrieked, "put me down! Oh, you beast! Tommy, help, help!
Peter, make him put me down and I'll forgive you all you've said."
Tommy Raynard sprang up, laughing, and ran after Donovan, who could not escape her. She threw an arm round his neck and bent his head backwards. "I shall drop her," he shouted. Peter leaped forward, and Julie landed in his arms.
For a second she lay still, and Peter stared down at her. With her quick intuition she read something new in his eyes, and instantly looked away, scrambling out and standing there flushed and breathing hard, her hands at her hair. "You perfect brute!" she said to Donovan, laughing. "I'll pay you out, see if I don't. All my hair's coming down."
"Capital!" said Donovan. "I've never seen it down, and I'd love to. Here, let me help."
He darted at her; she dodged behind Peter; he adroitly put out a foot, and Donovan collapsed into the big chair.
Julie clapped her hands and rushed at him, seizing a cushion, and the two struggled there till Tommy Raynard pulled Julie forcibly away.