The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. Jonathan, though a very powerful man, was like an infant in his gripe. In a side-glance—for the floor was variously encumbered with overturned objects—he saw one of his paper weights, a coloured glass ball such as McClintock used in trade. She went to her room and changed the loose morning gown in which she had lunched for a dark walking dress. When Mr. What's this?" he added, stooping to pick up a piece of paper lying at his feet—it was Jonathan's memorandum. There was a discreet knocking at the door, and Ramage’s face changed.
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