She could feel his eyes surreptiously scanning her backside. "There," cried Jackson, closing the book and rising, "that'll do. The Night-Cellar. The curtain came festooning slowly down, the music ceased, the lights in the auditorium glowed out, and Ann Veronica woke out of her confused dream of involuntary and commanding love in a glory of sound and colors to discover that Ramage was sitting close beside her with one hand resting lightly on her waist. There's more than I undertook to bring. Without her, it was lonely. Notwithstanding her emaciation, her features still retained something of a pleasing expression, and might have been termed beautiful, had it not been for that repulsive freshness of lip denoting the habitual dram-drinker; a freshness in her case rendered the more shocking from the almost livid hue of the rest of her complexion. " Ah Cum lent an ear covertly.
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