At the bottom of her heart she was not a bit afraid of Ramage. She guarded her mother, or at least she had liked to think so. His eyes were set too close together. At Boulogne they took train to Basle; next morning they breakfasted together in the buffet of that station, and thence they caught the Interlaken express, and so went by way of Spies to Frutigen. She was caught by an uncle, whose opinion she valued, making faces at Roddy because he had exulted at this. " "Lord, that's just the lesson I've been expounding! It isn't a question of fear; it's one of propriety. ‘Come,’ she called. ‘Why did you bring him? I hate him. He hated travelling second-class with her—indeed, he never did—but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing.
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