He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. “It’s my fault. “I wonder,” said Ramage, “that more girls don’t think as you do and want to strike out in the world. “It’s Kitty’s idea,” said one, “we are to go in the vans. ’ ‘Aye, but she don’t reckon to militiamen. When he came to a certain sentence in Brendon’s letter he stopped short and looked up at her.
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