He dashed after her with another yell of "Ginger!" and as he came round the corner, he saw her running down the street. Flight—flight on the part of Pollyooly—seemed too good to be true; and the street echoed and reechoed to his yells of "Ginger!"
She turned the right-hand corner of the Embankment. He bolted round it, and fetched up with a jerk that nearly brought both of them to the ground as the waiting Pollyooly sprang and gripped him by the hair.
He let out a yell of horrified surprise; and then the smacks came with all the righteous force of Pollyooly's vengeful arm. He kicked but feebly at her shins; but his howls of repentance were of the piercing kind which comes from the heart.
Pollyooly jerked his hair and smacked, and jerked and smacked till she could smack no more.
Then she flung the remorseful boy from her and said, "That will teach you to call me Ginger, Henry Wiggins."
She spoke with a certain lack of accuracy; but Henry Wiggins understood her. He would not call her Ginger for many days; and after that he
