"There he is!" cried Winifred, starting up, joyfully, and proving by the exclamation that her thoughts were dwelling upon one subject only. Eyebrows knitting, she looked towards the ground a few feet away from him, guiltily. "Why, what the devil would you have had me do!—make myself scarce, eh? You should have tipped me the wink. The place for reading. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. Was she interested in that young ass who was risking his bones over there in the city? They had come up on the same boat. . My business is with Lady Trafford. ’ ‘Then they are soldiers. ” “I feel so guilty.
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