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Sheila grabbed the gun and laughed hysterically, brandishing the weapon and baying like a bear. The sunshine was brilliant, the air mild. She remained standing stiffly, unable even to move. Her father was holding her waist, smiling. Her feathered hat fell from her head and down her back, and she felt fingers writhing in the mass of her hair and caressing the flesh of her neck beneath so that she shivered uncontrollably. \"Oh. ” He resumed, after a mouthful: “Here is a girl of sixteen or seventeen, seventeen and a half to be exact, running about, as one might say, in London. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.
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