Her cheeks flushed a dull red. ” Meddoes turned round from the table on which he was practising shots and shrugged his shoulders. “Is Miss Stanley coming up with us?” “I go second,” she said, “and change at Wimbledon. “You were talking to that fellow Ramage to-day—in the Avenue. Evidently he was gazing at the dull red roofs of the city: but was he registering what he saw? Never glance sideways at man, the old Kanaka woman had said. Manning’s handwriting had an air of being clear without being easily legible; it was large and rather roundish, with a lack of definition about the letters and a disposition to treat the large ones as liberal-minded people nowadays treat opinions, as all amounting to the same thing really—a yearssmoothed boyish rather than an adult hand. Gerald’s temper flared. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation.
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