"Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. ‘But you are idiot. She never knew what became of her farmer after that. I hid because there was no other way of seeing you. She was working very steadily at the Advanced Course in Comparative Anatomy, wonderfully relieved to have her mind engaged upon one methodically developing theme in the place of the discursive uncertainties of the previous two months, and doing her utmost to keep right in the back of her mind and out of sight the facts, firstly, that she had achieved this haven of satisfactory activity by incurring a debt to Ramage of forty pounds, and, secondly, that her present position was necessarily temporary and her outlook quite uncertain. Here they remained till midnight when, calling for their reckoning and their steeds, they left the house. “Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself. “How odd that I should almost spring into your arms just on my doorstep!” she remarked gaily.
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