She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. Marines. ‘So now you may safely cease your roundaboutation, and tell me what took you to Remenham House. ’ ‘Captain Roding, sir,’ put in Gerald, adding on a jocular note, ‘Another of the green whippersnappers you had to contend with some years back. He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year.
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