The clerk at the Raffles Hotel had accorded her but scant interest. “I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. Ann Veronica thought it was a spontaneous release of energy expressive of wellbeing, but Ramage thought that by dancing, men, and such birds and animals as dance, come to feel and think of their bodies. I must bless him before I die. He was alert, well-groomed, and yet—perhaps in contrast with the more volatile French type—there was a suggestion of weight about him, not to say heaviness. And they admired Kent sedulously from the windows. On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made. At least I can give you a glimmer. The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the eyes that looked into hers were clean.
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