"Come on, baby," he said, "don't be a prude."

He kept on advancing, his face no longer a mask of affability but filled with savage, primitive, ruthless passion.

Seething with indignation, Arlene attacked him. But with brutal strength he pushed her back until she collapsed on the davenport.

She doubled her knees, got them against his chest and gave a sudden push. As he staggered to his feet, she picked up a chair and threw it. It caught him low in the abdomen and he doubled over in pain.

Arlene grabbed her raincoat and made for the door, running down the gravel driveway, past the swimming pool, out to the dirt road.

When she could run no more, she looked back. The beam of headlights was swinging around the driveway. Then the car started slowly down the road after her...

If you're young, attractive, and female, resist the advances of Loring Lamont at your peril. The spoiled son of a rich and powerful father, Lamont is a wolf who goes after one pretty lamb too many. For stenographer Arlene Ferris has vowed not to let him get away with his cruel come-ons, though she never had murder in mind.

Perry Mason's cardinal rule - always trust your client - finds its sorest test when all the evidence says the unfortunate Miss Ferris brandished the fatal knife. Now he may have to step over the line of the law to prove his trust was justified.