“And what,” said Hawthorn, “would you have tried next, if you’d lost?” “Goodness knows.” Miss Blyth had pleased colour in her cheeks. “I might have tackled you around the knees, I suppose.” Hawthorn gave one of his whip-crack laughs. “You really are Blyth’s sister, aren’t you? He was barely holding himself back from popping me one the entire ten minutes of our acquaintance.
