It isn’t law, nor custom, nor masculine violence settled that. Anna followed her finger, and looked back into her sister’s face. Overjoyed beyond measure at having vanquished this apparently-insurmountable obstacle, Jack darted through the door. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. ‘Whither away, mademoiselle?’ he said grimly, ungently grasping her arm above the elbow. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. He lives in constant dread of a reappearance of ‘La Belle Alcide,’ and hearing it said that she is his wife’s sister. Ramage pursed his rather loose lips and shrugged his shoulders, with his eyes fixed steadily upon her. ” “You have been to her?” he asked.
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