CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. By the light of a torch borne at the stern of the hostile wherry, he saw that the pursuers had approached within a short distance of the object of their quest. Annabel thought, and thought again. 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. "Vot are you?" "Practising patience," growled Abraham. “Where were you?” He inquired, rubbing her shoulders. Mind you don't stir till supper's over. Instead had come this storm, this shouting, this weeping, this confusion of threats and irrelevant appeals. "Most persons would have guessed my meaning. She could not run, her limbs were frozen.
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