"Certainly," replied Jonathan, with the most perfect sangfroid, "I'll undertake to free you from the boy. She leaned over and kissed his cheek innocently. “Don’t fence with me,” Anna cried fiercely. The meat was coarse and disagreeably served. So the talk went on, and presently they were criticising novelists, and certain daring essays of Wilkins got their due share of attention, and then they were discussing the future of the theatre. “I’m very shy, and I would like to opt out if you don’t mind. Ramage,” she cried, “you are outrageous! You understand nothing.
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