The curtain came festooning slowly down, the music ceased, the lights in the auditorium glowed out, and Ann Veronica woke out of her confused dream of involuntary and commanding love in a glory of sound and colors to discover that Ramage was sitting close beside her with one hand resting lightly on her waist. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. “Can you not understand? It is of no use your taking my identity and all the burden of my iniquities upon your dear shoulders if I am to be recognized the moment I show my face in London. “Lady Mackinnor,” she said, “I am sure that you must have heard of Mr. "Well, Sir?" gasped Sir Rowland. She will take me in until I can make some plans. " New? That did not describe her.
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