” She smiled grimly at the recollection of that lunch—tea and roll at a cheap café. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. ’ Then all at once remembrance made her smile. Ennison was deeply interested. Now for it, Thames! Make as great a row as you can to divert his attention. Her aunt was blandly amiable above a certain tremulous undertow, and talked as if to a caller about the alarming spread of marigolds that summer at the end of the garden, a sort of Yellow Peril to all the smaller hardy annuals, while her father brought some papers to table and presented himself as preoccupied with them. If you can tell me nothing I don’t already know, so be it. “I am going through the other rooms. Perhaps I ate something spoiled for breakfast. Why should they be? She and Ramage were friends, very good friends.
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