He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. The curtain came festooning slowly down, the music ceased, the lights in the auditorium glowed out, and Ann Veronica woke out of her confused dream of involuntary and commanding love in a glory of sound and colors to discover that Ramage was sitting close beside her with one hand resting lightly on her waist. “I mean REALLY independent. Ruth shivered; she was cold. What’s your name?” He asked in return. Sheppard, passionately,—"he has my boundless gratitude, and devotion. If you don’t eat humble-pie now you may live to fare worse later.
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