’ ‘Well, she didn’t walk through the walls, that’s certain,’ said Hilary acidly. Ramage’s bitterness passed as abruptly as his aggression. “I wish. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. Her gratitude swelled within her. He whispered in her ear. So here I am, king of all I survey, with a predilection for poker, a scorched liver, and a piano-player. And the fact that it was dressed in riding gear had fooled her into thinking it was her own image. Remain at the door, Nab," he added, loitering for a moment behind the others, "and let no one in, or out.
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