Something that is born anew each time we meet, and pines when we are separated. ‘I begin to ask myself why it is that I wish to become of these people. 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. Great sport, eh? To haul them back from the ragged edge. What would it be without that safeguard?” Ogilvy pursued his own topic. Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips.
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