Five hours later she tiptoed down the hall and paused at the threshold of what they now called his study. Even now she could trace the outline of his shape behind the left-hand curtain. "How?" cried her brother, starting. Thames returned no answer. To hand the key back in silence was like offering a lie. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another. ’ ‘How do you know?’ Lucilla repeated, almost as sceptical as her intended spouse. Practically. .
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