Using the shirt, she cleaned away the blood. ‘What do you say of these troops?’ ‘You see, we’re militia. But here she met with a check. Ramage stood up, and suddenly turned the key in the door in an off-hand manner. Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. “Yes?” “You remember once, how we talked—at a gate on the Downs? We talked about how a girl might get an independent living. Her father’s peculiar stiffness of soul presented itself now as something altogether left out of the calculations upon which her plans were based, and, in particular, she had not anticipated the difficulty she would find in borrowing the forty pounds she needed for Ramage.
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