He seemed to possess a penetration and cunning beyond his years—to hide a man's judgment under a boy's mask. She dived at once behind the cover of the lamproom and affected serious trouble with her shoe-lace until he was out of the station, and then she followed slowly and with extreme discretion until the bifurcation of the Avenue from the field way insured her escape. “There is someone in my rooms,” Anna said. Ramage!” she cried, and struggled to her feet. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee.
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