She sensed his acute frustration as he unzipped her raincoat while trying to kiss her. Kneebone made no effort to check the unreasonable merriment of his companions, but rather seemed to encourage it. 270 “Curse that boy!” He chuckled and stomped the water. Ramage,” she said, “please don’t talk like this. Forgive me. Every now and then something familiar in her tone, the poise of her head, the play of her eyes startled him. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly.
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