” “I suppose people would say that it is a matter of temperament,” she continued. “To the view that all women ought to have votes whether they like it or not. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. Swiftly following the sound of knocking, she crossed right and passed through a door near the windows—and found herself in the bookroom. Be silent, I say, if you value his safety. She yielded it without protest, as though unconsciously. He then barred and double-locked the door, took out the key, (a precautionary measure which, with a grim smile, he said he never omitted,) thrust it into his vest, and motioning the couple to follow him, led the way to the inner room. “Child!” he cried. She laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. Master, your humble servant. You make a game with me, imbecile.
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