Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor. “But why is it preposterous?” asked Ann Veronica, and fiddled with a pipe on the mantel. His patient was distinctly of a different order of life. 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. Part 4 Interpretation came pouring down upon her almost blindingly; she understood now the room, the waiter, the whole situation. It did not shock her; it amazed her, interested her beyond measure. Ennison had disappeared. "I read those stories. She had been to San Francisco, and what I learned about the world was from her.
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