‘Did she call you that?’ asked Lucilla, amused. Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. He was clearing up these difficulties by tracing a partially obliterated suture the Scotchman had overlooked when the door from the passage opened, and Manning came into his universe. He accepted the glass of wine, and bowed. “I’ve got—I have to tell you this to make myself clear—a streak of ardent animal in my composition. It isn’t illusions—for us. I was bawling so hard that the Nurse took pity on me and slipped me two Children’s Tylenol. ‘That’s what started the fracas,’ Gerald admitted ruefully, nursing his injured hand as he recalled it. ” Lucy spoke up, “We used to call that ‘playing the coquette’.
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