erulously:

"Don't go and make a fool of yourself, Claire. It's a man's run, not a
girl's. I won't have you do it." It was the fatal voice of authority
without power.

Across the group her eyes met Winn's; wicked and gay they ran over him
and into him. He stuck his hands into his pockets and stared back at her
grimly, like a Staines. He wasn't going to say anything; only if she had
belonged to him he would have stopped her. His eyes said he could have
stopped her; but she didn't belong to him, so he set his square jaw, and
gave her his unflinching, indifferent disapproval.

She appeared after this to be unaware of him, and turned to her brother.

"Won't have it?" she said, with a little gurgle of laughter. "Why, how
do you suppose you can stop me? There's only one way of keeping a man's
run for men, and that's for girls not to be able to use it--see!"

She slipped her teasing foot off the toboggan and with an agile twist of
her small body sprang face downward on the board. In an instant she was
off, lying along it light as a feather, but holding the runners in a
grip of steel. In a moment more she was nothing but a traveling black
dot far down the valley, lifting to the banks, swirling lightning swift
back into the straight in a series of curves and flashes, till at the
end the toboggan, girl and all, swung high into the air, and subsided
safely into a snow-drift.

Winn turned and walked away; he wasn't going to applaud her. Something
burned in his heart, grave and angry, stubborn and very strong. It was
as if a strange substance had got into him, and he couldn't in the least
have said what it was. It voiced itself for him in his saying to
himself, "That girl wants looking after." The men on the bank admired
her; there were too many of them, and no woman. He wondered if he should
ever see her again. She was curiously vivid to him--brown shoes and
stockings, tossed hair, clear eyes. He remembered once going to an opera
and being awfully bored because there was such a lot of stiff music and
people bawling about; only on the stage there had been a girl lying in
the middle of a ring of flames. She'd showed up uncommonly well, rather
like this one did in the hot sunshine.

Walking back to the hotel he met a string of bounders, people he had
seen and loathed at breakfast. Some of them had tried to talk to him;
one beggar had had the cheek to ask Winn what he was up there for, and
when Winn had said, "Not to answer impe