Turning to Melusine, he grabbed both her wrists and held her away from him, as if afraid that she might go for him. She relented out of exhaustion, yet he would not let her near Marina, his embrace tightening. "A little, Sir," replied the executioner, with a grim smile. Her defence ceased rapidly to be in any sense ladylike, and became vigorous and effective; a strand of black hair that had escaped its hairpins came athwart Ramage’s eyes, and then the knuckles of a small but very hardly clinched fist had thrust itself with extreme effectiveness and painfulness under his jawbone and ear. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. His cheeks were puffy, and his eyes blood-shot. It’s your way of glossing over the ethical position. He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether.
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