“You are not going out—this evening, I trust,” that lady asked, a trifle dismayed. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. Griffin, who held the same office in Westminster Gatehouse were left in the Lodge. ’ ‘Can’t say as I’m sorry to hear you say that, missie,’ confessed the sergeant, on a relieved note, as he locked the front door of the mansion and pocketed the key. His tone was rough, almost threatening. "Fire! That was what drew me to you in the beginning. He wondered why she thought love made people happy, and began to talk of the smilax and pinks that adorned the table.
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