Anna looked at her curiously, and with sinking heart. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. There is only Gerald to see me, after all. A kind but hard looking female officer named Rose took her into a room and sat her down at a small wooden table. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. I'm an old hand at such things. At the bottom of her heart she was not a bit afraid of Ramage.
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