"Let me look at the paper. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. Ramage stood up, and suddenly turned the key in the door in an off-hand manner. Come along, master. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. "Certainly," replied Jonathan, with the most perfect sangfroid, "I'll undertake to free you from the boy. Anyhow, he did not sentimentalize her. I don’t see what you can have to say. "She wouldn't let me go. “I told you I did not love you. The weather's been foul enough for the last fortnight, but I've never turned my back upon it.
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