‘Too late by the time I realised to what a dunderhead I’d pledged my friendship. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. Then pain entered their depths. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. It’s—it’s a serious prohibition. She would wake in the night to repeat her bitter cry: “Oh, why did I burn those notes?” It added greatly to the annoyance of the situation that she had twice seen Ramage in the Avenue since her return to the shelter of her father’s roof. Can you imagine how dreadful it must be for them? Most of them arrive here almost penniless.
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