’ She turned, her eyes narrowed. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. “You shall drive home with me in a hansom, if you will. And at the thought of that other lover—he was convinced that that beloved person was a lover, and she found herself unable to say a word to explain to him that this other person, the person she loved, did not even know of her love—Ramage grew angry and savage once more, and returned suddenly to gibe and insult. “I wish you and I had drunk that love potion,” he said. Their laughter, together with the agonized yowling of the dog, drew a circle of wondering natives; and at length McClintock himself came over to see what the racket was about.
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