The Odds - Ethel M Dell - Bog

"If he comes my way, I'll shoot him!" said Dot Burton, her blue eyes gleaming in her boyish, tanned face. "I'm not such a bad shot, am I, Jack?" "Not so bad," said Jack, kindly. "But don't shoot at sight, or p'r'aps you'll shoot a policeman-which might be awkward for us both!" "As if I should be such an idiot as that!" protested Dot. "I wasn't born yesterday, anyhow." "No?" said Jack. "Somehow you look as if you were." "Don't you be a donkey, Jack!" said his young sister, with an impudent snap of the fingers under his nose. "Being ten years older than I am doesn't qualify you for that superior pose. You're only a man, you know, after all."