That could signify nothing except that the doctor had a friend down there somewhere, on an island in one of those archipelagoes. She spent the morning up to ten in writing a series of unsuccessful letters to Ramage, which she tore up unfinished; and finally she desisted and put on her jacket and went out into the lamp-lit obscurity and slimy streets. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses. "How very fortunate it is," he observed, "that I happened to call upon Mr. . “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked. Tell me.
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