CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. Many of the soldiers dismounted, and called for drink. Why had he glanced up—quite in that way?. He was struck disagreeably by Ramage’s air of gallant consideration and Ann Veronica’s self-possessed answers. "I thought it best that you should imagine him. A shudder rippled across his shoulders. I could not keep away any longer. ” “All these things,” he muttered bitterly, “this desperate resolve to take your life into your own hands, your unnatural craving for independence, would never trouble you for a moment—if you really cared. Here was not the individual against whom she had been warned. " Winifred's eyes filled with tears. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room.
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