But about his unknown rival he was acutely curious. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. The pouting cherry lips were slightly parted and the very faintest of panting breaths, together with the quick rise and fall of an alluring bosom, betrayed her fear. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little. ‘How do you know?’ ‘Exactly,’ pounced Roding bitterly. Even your family. "Stay!" interposed Jonathan. The report of his detention caused an immense sensation. She was looking anxiously at the entrance to the restaurant.
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