He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. They became aware of the waitress standing over them with book and pencil ready for their bill. Ramage seemed always fencing about the forbidden topic, probing for openings, and she wondered why she did not give him them. It was red and chapped. By now the horses would be rested and he might go as swiftly back again. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. Beyond was another door, on which was painted in black letters: MR. I may want you. It has been a big night. . There was a pleasant numbness in the bottle; that's why I went to it.
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