‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. It was an overcast day, albeit not foggy, and the electric light shades glowed warmly, and an Italian waiter with insufficient English took Ramage’s orders, and waited with an appearance of affection. Now, will you do me the honour of lunching with me, Miss Pellissier?” Anna hesitated. Pews had been brought in and set in two rows before the huge table, covered in white cloth, that formed the altar at the far end. Oddly, he was seldom angry with her as Gianfrancesco would have been. All its better points were improved, while the less attractive ones (and they were few in comparison) were subdued, or removed. He was a good foster dad that had never so much as leered at her, not even once. . The terror faded from her eyes.
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