” He threw open the door of the sitting-room and switched on the electric light. “She thinks that Missy is trying to turn me into a punk or a Goth. "Auntie?" he cried. She would not forgive me. The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. There was a certain air of forced fortuity in his manner. And yet, dang it! I've seen 'em just as innocent looking that were prime vipers.
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