“I’m going to talk of indifferent themes,” said Ramage, a little fussily, “until these interruptions of the service are over. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. She had fallen into it naturally, the only expression of the dance she had ever seen or known, and that a stolen sweet. The world into which she was so boldly venturing was going to be wonderful, but never so wonderful as the world within these paper covers. Maggot was equipped in a light blue riding-habit, trimmed with silver, a hunting-cap and a flaxen peruke, and, instead of a whip, carried a stout cudgel. I thought one had only to take it by the throat. She seemed honestly glad to see him.
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