‘Well, sir, if I’ve to choose betwixt him and you, I’ll take you, no question. “I thought I saw her in town to-day,” he said. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. “I’m going to talk of indifferent themes,” said Ramage, a little fussily, “until these interruptions of the service are over. Perhaps," she added, in a whisper, as she appropriated the beforenamed article, "he has a pocket-book. She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge.
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