He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. Together they crept through the erstwhile drawing room and entered the massive flagged hall. But she did not talk readily, and in order to say something she plunged a little, and felt she plunged. “My friend,” she said, “I have been your pupil for two years. Cathy's eyes widened, her cheeks expanding to a smile. “Hello? She’s like, your girlfriend, not mine. As she drew off her skirt she felt something in the pocket, and remembered the letter which the commissionaire at the Carlton had given her. ’ She tossed her head.
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