As she wrestled with him, pulling at his smooth, tight-covered knees, he laughed till he lay back on the sofa shaking with laughter.

The cigarette fell from his mouth almost singeing his throat.

Under his delicate tan the blood flushed up, and he laughed till his blue eyes were blinded, his throat swollen almost to choking.
Then he sat up.

Beatrice was putting in her comb.
"Tha tickled me, Beat," he said thickly.
Like a flash her small white hand went out and smacked his face.

He started up, glaring at her.