Michelle’s eyes widened. The vestry door opened to the mews behind, and not to Golden Square. Ramage leaned over the gate at Ann Veronica’s side, and for a moment there was silence. She winked at him as he shut the door. Using the shirt, she cleaned away the blood. Nevertheless, she was still fighting. “I beg your pardon,” he said, “but you appear to be a fellow countrywoman of mine, and in some distress. He thought, too, of the fretful invalid who lay in the next room to his, whose money had created his business and made his position in the world. From the first, Ann Veronica found him an exceptionally interesting man.
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