"It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone. 47 was no more than a sort of railway compartment on the way to that. ‘Do not speak of him. Ramage seemed always fencing about the forbidden topic, probing for openings, and she wondered why she did not give him them. " "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me. Wood required little pressing. He did not like it. I hope—I am sure that he did not see me. Excuse me an instant while I dismiss this person. ‘You are there. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. At sunset the swarming abruptly ceased; even the sampans appeared to draw closer together, with the quiet of water-fowl. She listened, listened intently for several minutes.
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