Ramage, that iron-gray man of the world, appeared dressed in a bowler hat and a suit of hard gray, astride of a black horse. Even the stars were strangers. What he wanted desperately was to be alone. “I had a visit from Sir John in my rooms,” she said. Her father was distinctly irascible, and disposed more than ever to hide away among the petrological things—the study was turned out. Michelle looked her up and down, liking the results of her efforts. She was certain he would hear, sleeping in the nearby castle. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. It is difficult to express these things. Anna looked at her, startled.
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