‘Stay, Saling!’ The butler halted, looking round enquiringly. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. Do you know, Ann Veronica, it is all a lie about your birth certificate; a forgery—and fooling at that. At six o'clock, the wicket was shut; and at nine, the jail was altogether locked up. It was a different world. The aunt rushed over to her nephew, knelt and wrapped him in her arms. At the bottom of her heart she was not a bit afraid of Ramage. "Perhaps he means well.
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