She tipped his mouth towards her own and kissed him. . The salt air was fresher than the stale air in the manor. The small grey feathers of her exquisitely shaped fan waved gently backwards and forwards. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. At least here she was safe. “You go home and think of all this,” he said, “and talk about it to-morrow. ” “There’s plenty of time,” said Ramage. Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason.
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