The lighting-up pierced the obscurity of the box, and Ramage stopped his urgent flow of words abruptly and sat back. Ramage. That’s my point. We looked upon you, my dear Sir John, with reverence, almost with awe. Melusine’s eyes shifted. He refused. Well, whenever you say, I promise to do away with the mystery. Ennison?” Sir John hesitated. Dare you?” “Do you mean NOW?” “At the end of the session. Yet he’s been here for six years, and he’s as much a fixture as that sham mahogany sideboard.
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