“I may as well come up by this train. My mother really wants to meet you. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. “Oh, yes,” the stranger remarked good-humouredly. ” He made quite a long pause, and went on, with a sigh: “You have a voting paper given you—” They emerged into the publicity of the lawn. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. She allowed herself to be ejected, therefore, and retired to the parlour after cleansing the blood from her hands and her own slight wound in the kitchen.
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