Throughout the afternoon, while the doctor was giving her the first lesson out of his profound knowledge of life, her interest would break away continually, despite her honest efforts to pin it down to the facts so patiently elucidated for her. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. “Dare!” she said. “You found the flat easily?” said Capes in the pause. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. The clerk at the Raffles Hotel had accorded her but scant interest.
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