Instead, she laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. The windows were small, and strongly grated, looking, in front, on Kendrick Yard, and, at the back, upon the spacious burial-ground of Saint Giles's Church. Wood's at Dollis Hill, wholly unsuspicious of any designs against him, and, in fact, entirely ignorant of your being acquainted with his return, or even of his existence. It did seem in so many ways exactly what Ramage said it was—the sensible thing to do. Once or twice she commented upon it, but she knew that it was resultant of his fear of her impending departure. Was she interested in that young ass who was risking his bones over there in the city? They had come up on the same boat.
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