It was at this point that Gerry came in. The little bit of brandy left she had poured over the money to encourage the conflagration at suitable points, and then, in an uncharacteristically aggressive burst of sentiment, she had smashed the brandy bottle and her glass by flinging them against the opposite wall. The coffee things she placed carefully on a tray to take outside, and then she set a match to the money. Haying waited to make sure that everything was well alight, she slipped out of the room and locked the door behind her. Then, forcing herself to remain calm and steady, she headed towards the breakfast room to get Dick. When from the door she saw him with his arm around a strange female, she was furious. Determined to give him a sharp and sudden shock, she moved slowly and on tiptoe right up behind the pair. Just as she got to them, Dick put his hand once more upon the breast, a little more forcefully on this occasion than previously.
It was not for nothing that his political opponents were wont to fear the Leninist when roused. Once he had darted across the floor of the house to hit somebody who had said something rude about his exploits during the war. On this occasion he had a far more subtle method of asserting himself at hand. Lifting up his stiletto heel, he brought it firmly down upon Dick’s foot. Dick yelped in agony, and promptly pulled his hand away. The breast went with it. At precisely that moment Gerry loomed over the pair and grabbed hold of Dick’s hand.
‘You filthy beast,’ she exclaimed. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself.’ She pulled the breast from Dick’s unresisting grasp, and dashed it down forcefully upon the ground. Continue reading