No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. ’ ‘But me orders, sir? Are we to—’ ‘Gad, but that’s her,’ interrupted Roding suddenly. ’ ‘Uh-oh,’ came from her infuriating suitor and his eyes dropped to the weapon she was dragging from the holster under her petticoat. "And I want to thank you, too," supplemented Ruth. ‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. H’m.
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