He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. “Have you ever been to the opera, Ann Veronica?” said Ramage. And in some incomprehensible way, Ramage was confused with Capes; she had a grotesque disposition to persuade herself that this was really Capes who surrounded her, as it were, with wings of desire. She shut her lips hard, her jaw hardened, and she set herself to struggle with him.
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