"Do not endanger yourself on my account," rejoined his mother. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. He munched his popcorn steadily, periodically offering it to her, but not his Coke, as that would be too bold, a saliva exchange. Wood's reception of the widow, who, at that moment, was ushered into the room by Winifred, was not particularly kind and encouraging. "Yes, or no?" "I will make no terms with you," rejoined Wild, sternly. She guarded her mother, or at least she had liked to think so. " So saying, he violently shut and locked the door.
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