"Who is it, Bess?" "How should I know?" replied Edgeworth Bess. Capes bore a face of infinite perplexity. ‘I am not in the least in a rage. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. ” “That’s one of our differences. ’ ‘Not if you want one of good family, no,’ he agreed mildly. Then Ramage appeared with effusion, and ushered her into his inner apartment. But of course the money will not be refunded. She heard the bamboo curtain rattle slightly. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. But, being pushed forward by his subordinate officer, he was compelled to make a stand.
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