Her defence ceased rapidly to be in any sense ladylike, and became vigorous and effective; a strand of black hair that had escaped its hairpins came athwart Ramage’s eyes, and then the knuckles of a small but very hardly clinched fist had thrust itself with extreme effectiveness and painfulness under his jawbone and ear. He grabbed her wrist and prised the weapon from her fingers, ignoring her other hand that clawed at his to try to retain the trophy. " "Away with him!" cried Jonathan. He yelled to her, asking her if she wished to have a drink with him, which she refused. ‘Have no fear,’ he uttered soothingly, reaching out to pat her free hand.
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