The movie droned on, the sounds becoming manageable except for the frequent high-pitched screams of young girls when a poltergeist manifestation would leap out of a shadow. “Good-bye, John,” she said simply. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. He had been gone entirely one day, for yesterday afternoon he had departed from Remenham House, and she had waited with patience like a saint, and now it was again the afternoon. If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate. Will you venture?" "It is a hazardous experiment," said Thames, after a moment's reflection; "but I will make it.
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