Ramage—about the forty pounds. " Here a murmur of amazement arose from the assemblage outside. As time went on, she began to think Martha had been mistaken. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. Then his tiny bow mouth opened into an adoring smile. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. " "And you whipped the beast? I passed him. ” The detective thrust his notebook into his pocket.
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