“Absolutely platonically,” she said. They alighted at the restaurant, and stood for a moment in the passage looking into the crowded room. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. ‘You’re speaking the truth. ” The truth prevailed. ” “Then I,” she said, “have too much character. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. “Wow, congratulations, Martin. I can pull the strings of this stiff-necked puppet as I please. As usual Brendon lit the candles, and Sydney dragged out the spiritlamp and set it going. At last he took up his thoughts again: “I wonder if, some day, one won’t need to rebel against customs and laws? If this discord will have gone? Some day, perhaps—who knows?—the old won’t coddle and hamper the young, and the young won’t need to fly in the faces of the old. But he afterwards acted upon the suggestion. And if he won’t—” But she did not give even unspoken words to the alternative at that time.
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