‘No, no, I am convinced your very first theory was right. . She had not seen Ramage for ten or eleven days, and she was quite ready for a gossip with him. I was certain of it. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. " "Caught you napping, eh?" rejoined Ireton, with a laugh. It was an uproarious affair, for Rollo now knew that he had been grieviously betrayed: they were trying to kill him in a new way. "I think you're all bewitched," she cried. A hand of iron fell upon the scowling young man’s shoulder.
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