.

RECORDS A SHADOW CONTEST CLOSE ON THE FOREGOING.
Kit Ines cocked an eye at Madge, in the midst of the congratulations and the paeans pumping his arms.

As he had been little mauled, he could present a face to her, expecting a wreath of smiles for the victor.
What are we to think of the contrarious young woman who, when he lay beaten, drove him off the field and was all tenderness and devotion?
She bobbed her head, hardly more than a trifle pleased, one might say.

Just like females.

They're riddles, not worth spelling.