Alas, how bitter the crude truth! Instead of this, those wondrous tassels now danced from her boot tops as she gave chase to Solon Denney, who had pulled one of the scarlet bows from its yellow braid.

Grimly I was aware that he should be the first to go out of the world, and I called upon a just heaven to slay him as he fled with his trophy.

But nothing sweet and fitting happened.

He went unblasted.
She came back to the group of girls, flushed and lovely beyond compare, holding up the ravished end of that golden braid with a comic dismay, while her despoiler laughed coarsely from a distance and pinned the trophy to his coat lapel.

I now saw that blasting was too merciful.