‘I might have killed you,’ she snapped, ‘if only you did not say anything. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. But for me it doesn’t matter. Alone; not even the dog to warn her, and Hoddy deep in the island somewhere. If she mentioned Ramage he might have a fit—anything might happen. It was all highly intriguing. . You're a queer lad. He laid down the knife, and fixed a searching and distrustful gaze upon the writer, who continued his task, unconscious of anything having happened.
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