. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. I acted in plays, I studied philosophy, mathematics, and science. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. Certain of my prey, I can afford to wait for it. You never can tell. For her it was sufficient to know that somebody wanted her, that never again would she be alone, that always this boy with the dreams would be depending upon her.
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