” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. Wood, sharply. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. A crutch, with a silver handle, stood by her side, proving the state of extreme debility to which she was reduced. These dinners, from their lavish display of ambiguous hors d’oeuvre to their skimpy ices in dishes of frilled paper, with their Chianti flasks and Parmesan dishes and their polyglot waiters and polyglot clientele, were very funny and bright; and she really liked Ramage, and valued his help and advice. ’ To his intense satisfaction, mademoiselle burst into laughter.
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