She felt a storm of emotion surging up within her. His literary instincts were reviving. Had he found the secret door? Running to the centre, she tried to judge where the knocking came from. Jack affected to close the door, but left it slightly ajar. And so bitterly did the carpenter reproach himself with his neglect, that he resolved, at all risks, to go back in search of it. I should like to have had you forgive me. Ramage!” she began, and his mouth sealed hers and his breath was mixed with her breath. . Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written with her heart's blood.
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