Ramage, that iron-gray man of the world, appeared dressed in a bowler hat and a suit of hard gray, astride of a black horse. When he had finished he took up the wine list and ordered a bottle of dry champagne. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. Then she went below. ‘That piece of information seemed to interest him very much. He just walked in a few minutes ago. There was something in Jonathan's manner, as he issued this command, that struck the man as singular, and he afterwards recalled it. She almost laughed, but repressed her smile lest it seem cruel. And because of this hanging gold Ah Cum left many doors open to doubt. . Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs.
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