But he only went home again to Paddington. \" Michelle drifted into a reverie. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. “It isn’t a joke,” she said. “Promise me that you’ll never tell another living soul, John. And by degrees, perhaps, that maiden distrust of yours that makes you shrink from my kisses, will vanish. ” “What do you mean—by too late?” he demanded. She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice.
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