” 209 Clotilde was no fool. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. Ramage,” she cried, “you are outrageous! You understand nothing. There will be long stretches of idleness, heat, and enervation; and always the odour of drying coconut. Ennison,” he said, “it is for you to cut in at Lady Angela’s table. ” “But how? It has only been a few days!” “She’s not even here.
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