But she did not listen long; she wanted to talk. ‘What is this fate?’ ‘Un mariage of no distinction. Gerald stood quite still for a moment or two, listening intently. Few men could have done as much. She fought the inclination for a while, then surrendered. For most of a long and fluctuating night she was fairly confident that she would find work; she knew herself to be strong, intelligent, and capable by the standards of most of the girls she knew. The lighting-up pierced the obscurity of the box, and Ramage stopped his urgent flow of words abruptly and sat back. I have given up painting. ‘Hang it all, Mrs Sindlesham is right! You are two of a kind.
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