“How would you prevent it?” she asked. Or appeared to do so. ‘Well, sir, if I’ve to choose betwixt him and you, I’ll take you, no question. ‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. She was pleased and a little flattered by his interest and sympathy. The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey. She was feeling extraordinarily well that night, so that the sense of her body was a deep delight, a realization of a gentle warmth and strength and elastic firmness. Why should they be? She and Ramage were friends, very good friends. A couple of gilt straight-backed chairs only. Or, if this goodlooking young fellow will only say the word, I'll go with him. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. Neither your aunt nor I have any other thought but what is best for you. Yet her embarrassment was only a passing thing. Tender with the sick, firm with the strong, fearless, with a body that had the resistance of iron, there was nothing of the hypocrite in him.
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