Ramage stood up, and suddenly turned the key in the door in an off-hand manner. "I'm dumb. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Do not mistake me. ‘And I trust you will pardon my inadequacies. Women never throw themselves into each other's arms; they calculate the distance and the damage perfectly. The sight of the thief-taker increased the fury of the mob to a fearful degree. Out of sight of that tell-tale window, the two officers darted across the grounds, speedily gaining the lee of the mansion walls. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. I spent agonizing weeks wandering Mantua in search of you, finally arriving at the idea of asking someone who you were. pglaf.
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