CHAPTER XVI. The vote is only the beginning, the necessary beginning. But on this matter my mind is quite made up. Kneebone's habitation, the shutters of which were closed, and knocked at the door. Five minutes ago, his butler had entered the green saloon, an austere apartment, with dark forest-green wallpaper flocked with a swirling design, and heavy mahogany furniture. “Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world. ” He replied solemnly, looking straight into her eyes. "Go!" said Lady Trafford; "it is my last request. So she went to Ramage and came to the point almost at once.
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