Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. “Concern me!” she repeated fiercely. I wasn’t. It was a refusal of expediency, he said, and not an absolute refusal. If she had once known him, if he were some former neighbour, it would be comprehensible. Outside in the hall he paused and thoughtfully stroked his smooth blue chin. No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own. ‘Assuming she can prove her identity, does Remenham House belong to her?’ Mrs Sindlesham shifted her shoulders. “Thanks to you. ‘Exactement. Who? Could it be Gerald? Quickly, she looked back at Gosse’s face, and found him frowning.
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