‘But so also it is downstairs. In the struggle, Mrs. I thought that you were he. There were cakes and sandwiches—for Ennison a sort of Elysian feast, long to be remembered. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. She felt sleepy and unusually irritable. “It is rather odd,” he said, “but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. ’ ‘Ah, that was an affair altogether different,’ she explained and fluttered her long lashes at him. ” She threw away the end of her cigarette. I will not be persecuted in this way by you. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. But, urged by his wife's cries, who was more anxious for the preservation of her child's life than her own, he snatched up the infant, and made his escape from the back of the premises.
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