ToC "How do you mean to act, Sir?" inquired Trenchard, as soon as they were left alone. “When did you get home last night, Lucy?” Cathy interrogated through a yawn. The little streaks upon the germinating area of an egg, the nervous movements of an impatient horse, the trick of a calculating boy, the senses of a fish, the fungus at the root of a garden flower, and the slime upon a sea-wet rock—ten thousand such things bear their witness and are illuminated. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. ’ ‘What?’ gasped Gerald, shocked. As soon as he had read it, he let it fall from his grasp. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward.
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