He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. They might applaud, or object, or interfere, but the drama was her very own. It was decrepit and too large. ‘Who’s this, then? Not soldiers again. Ramage, regarding it and putting a well-booted foot up on the bottom rail. He might have been a complete innocent, she did not know and did not bother to find out. Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared.
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