But at last this ordeal was over, and Ramage opened the door. “Lord!” she said. ‘Monsieur, my wife intended not to anger you,’ he said in a tone of apology. Like the parrot, she could memorize the lines, but she could not understand them. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. We were properly married, and the certificate is at my lawyer’s. It would surely be only common politeness to drop her a hint—a fellow countrywoman too. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. “Your name, I believe, is——” “Pellissier,” Anna answered. “You haven’t seen him in three hundred years?” He asked.
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