The Scot understood that, gently and indirectly, Ruth was asking her husband a question, opening a door if he cared to enter. She leaned back in the cab with half-closed eyes. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. ’ Her breath tightened and she was obliged to control an inner ferocity. ‘Sapristi,’ he gasped.
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