As the Wastrel rushed, Spurlock sidestepped, swept the ball into his hand, set himself and threw it. “I’m sorry! Mary! Are you hurt?” “No. And yet, dang it! I've seen 'em just as innocent looking that were prime vipers. Though the starling was more than two feet above the level of the water, he alighted with his little charge—which he had never for an instant quitted—in safety upon it. ‘You see, it is that my papa, he is without sympathy,’ said the lady sadly. Assessing him as harmless, she had remained friendly, albeit aloof.
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