She will not confide in me. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. “Let us sit down for a moment,” he had said. We wore invisible chains and invisible blinkers. Wood will protect you," urged Mrs. “Queer letters he writes,” she said. ’ She spoke with difficulty, holding down the rising emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. “I wonder what he will do?” She tried to imagine situations that might arise out of Ramage’s antagonism, for he had been so bitter and savage that she could not believe that he would leave things as they were.
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