The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. For a moment her thoughts led her back to the evening when she and Courtlaw had stood together before the window of her studio in Paris, before the coming of Sir John had made so many changes in her life. Wood, who had merely absented himself to see that a public breakfast, which he had ordered at the Six Bells for all who chose to partake of it, was in readiness. "I'll call you when you're wanted. He seated himself before it.
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