It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. Ramage seemed always fencing about the forbidden topic, probing for openings, and she wondered why she did not give him them. A town called Foster. ” “There will be some coffee and music in the drawing-room in a few minutes,” Mrs. ’ Gerald suppressed a grin. The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall.
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