I do not believe that you will marry David Courtlaw. Ramage,” she said, “I can’t—Not now. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. “More coffee, hon?” She held her hand over the cup. White said. Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. She caught her breath, and her eyes were lit with a sudden terror. ” “I wanted to, John.
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