Ramage came for her at her lodgings, and she met him graciously and kindly as a queen who knows she must needs give sorrow to a faithful liege. The world isn't real yet; she hasn't comparisons by which to govern her acts. You might get faint, but you can fight it. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. Ann Veronica sat back in an attitude of inattention, her eyes on a distant game of cricket, her mind perplexed and busy. ‘Oh! little Vee!’ he cried, ‘little Vee!’ and put his face between his hands and sat still for a long time before he broke out again. She flew up the covered stairs and knocked upon his door. “Next door,” said a spectacled young person of seventeen or eighteen, with an impatient indication of the direction.
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