twister

He, twirling his twister, makes a twist of the twine.

“I don't know if it's my imagination, Kipper,” I said, “but something gives me the impression that at moment of going to press you aren't too sold on Bobbie.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Oh, I wouldn't say that. Apart from wishing I could throttle the young twister with my bare hands and jump on the remains with hobnailed boots, I don't feel much about her one way or the other.”