So she went to Ramage and came to the point almost at once. Miss Stanley threw aside a black cloak to reveal a discreet and dignified arrangement of brown silk, and then embraced Ann Veronica with warmth. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. Had it not been lashed to the adjoining wherry, it must have been upset, and have precipitated the opponents into the water. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat.
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