With that, he flicked open the parasol and engaged its propeller. Miss Pickering’s eyes widened, and Devon feared she might cry. Poor girl, so downtrodden by Hippolyta, so timid, she was no doubt— Er, actually, she was beating him with Hippolyta’s parasol. Having grabbed it from the older lady, she spared no effort in whacking Devon about the legs as he began to rise from the path.
you go girl
