“Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. Suddenly she had become afraid. She had looked forward to an explanation. " "Permit me to see it, Sir James!" requested Jack. ” Ramage reflected. The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. Well, it's scarcely credible. ’ ‘Comment?’ she demanded with some heat. ’ ‘About me?’ The lady’s lashes fluttered and her fan came up. The whole affair interested him deeply. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. Perhaps an hour later he would begin again. This intelligence, which she instantly communicated to the carpenter, drove him almost frantic.
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