He gripped the edge of the tub with one hand and grabbed her with the other, wrestling her into submission. "Uncle, uncle!" she cried, pretending to surrender. When he released her she splashed suds into his face, giggling maniacally. "Oh, you're going to pay for that," he said, kneeling and hauling her upward with his hands under her arms. He flipped her over the edge of the tub and dumped her unceremoniously on the bath mat, as if he were a camp counselor bathing a five-year-old. Then he vaulted after her, pinning her before she could scramble to her feet. “Now I have you at my mercy,'' he pronounced in a deep theatrical voice, twirling an imaginary moustache. "Oh, please, sir, take pity on a poor serving girl with nary a penny to her name," Sharon whimpered in a cockney accent, batting her lashes. "A poor serving girl?" Tay said, dropping the act. "Isn't that a bit much?" "I thought it was a nice touch.
What do You think about A Marriage Of Convenience?
