Ramage stood up, and suddenly turned the key in the door in an off-hand manner. Either she had been seen, or they were seeking the air. And I’ve read, and thought, and guessed, and looked—until MY innocence—it’s smirched. ‘That is what she wants, is it?’ ‘Do you blame her?’ he said stiffly. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. And look, again, at the women one finds letting lodgings. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. " Darrell returned no answer.
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