CHAPTER VII

CONCERNING ANKLES, STAIRS, AND NEIGHBOURLINESS


It was in no very pleasant humour that Geoffrey Ravenslee began to climb
the many stairs (that much-trodden highway) that led up to his new
abode; he climbed them slowly, frowning in a dark perplexity, and wholly
unconscious of the folk that jostled him or paused to stare after him as
he went.

But presently, and all at once, he became aware of one who climbed half
a flight above him, and, glancing up, he saw a foot in a somewhat worn
shoe, a shapely foot nevertheless, joined to a slender ankle which
peeped and vanished alternately beneath a neat, well-brushed skirt that
swayed to the vigorous action of the shapely limbs it covered. He was
yet observing the soft, rounded curves of this most feminine back when
he became aware of two facts: one, that she bore a heavy suit case in
her neatly gloved hand; two, that the tress of hair peeping rebellious
beneath the neat hat brim was of a wondrous yellow gold. Instantly he
hastened his steps, and reaching out his hand almost instinctively,
sought to relieve her of her burden.

"Allow me!" said he.

She stopped, and turning on the stair above, looked down on him with a
pair of wondering blue eyes; her cheeks glowed, and she was panting a