"I'm sure he won't attempt to prevent me," rejoined Thames. He might go on as the devoted lover until he tired. She got up and unlocked the door. "Mr. ‘I’ve finished me report, sir,’ Trodger said aggrievedly. Ramage seemed always fencing about the forbidden topic, probing for openings, and she wondered why she did not give him them. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. “I don’t think you can have heard me, Vee,” he said, with intensely controlled fury. But, by Jove! you are fierce! You are like those Roman women who carry stilettos in their hair.
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