She thought of her costume in some detail and with considerable satisfaction, and particularly of a very jolly property dagger with large glass jewels in the handle, that reposed in a drawer in her room. If she mentioned Ramage he might have a fit—anything might happen. Gerald caught the look and slipped the weapon into his pocket. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. She found it rather funny that he always wore the shirt fastidiously tucked in and never wore the ensemble without a stiff brown leather belt. “Curious case,” said Ogilvy, buttering his bread and cutting it up in a way he had. It is magnificent indeed. Mrs Sindlesham raised her brows.
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