She kicked him in the shin, trying to knock him off his feet. She was fine and tender. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. Returning in moments, Mr. Melusine got to her feet and, tucking her shoulder under his arm on the uninjured side, put her arm about him to hold his waist, and thus contrived to take most of his weight. ‘Damnation!’ Confused, he released her, and in an instant she had darted away and was running down the garden.
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