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She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. Wood was dressed with more than ordinary care, and in more than ordinary finery. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. We have met before. She wanted to think. It is the same man, for he raved in the hospital, and they fetched me. “That beast of a fellow is certain to be hanging about. ‘What do you mean to do with her?’ ‘Just keep her talking, that’s all,’ Gerald said quickly. “My dear Annabel,” she said, “this is delightful, but I thought that it was forbidden. Squire and master. They must have a key.
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