"Patience Kite has lured him to Enfield on a false scent after Blueskin. “It’s very late. The thing is done. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. “Come on in. Somebody to whom she would be necessary, who for days would have to depend upon her for the needs of life. It is a most wonderful piece of good fortune, as I suppose you will be prepared to admit. ’ He frowned again.
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