First-off, he had decided not to tell her what he had found at the bottom of that manila envelope. “I say!” he cried. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You should have gone to Charvill. You got my note?” “I certainly received a note,” Anna admitted. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. ‘Is it worth it?’ he asked at last. "Hoddy, Hoddy!… No, no! This is my father!" warned Ruth. Ramage looked at her for a long and discriminating interval without speaking.
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