He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. It was not for a week or a month. ” “Nobody does that,” said Ramage, and kept silence for a moment. Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard. It’s odd how little I know of him, and of how he feels and what he feels. Dare you?” “Do you mean NOW?” “At the end of the session. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. He'll be here two or three days.
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