‘But a spy I am not. “It is about your sister, Lady Ferringhall. “I suppose, daddy, you’ve no objection to my going on with my work at the Imperial College?” she asked. ’ Hilary’s gaze was raking the room. Her hair once more was arranged with its old simplicity. In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. Wanting his coat, when he must have known that the pockets were empty! But the effort to talk had cost him something. It was as if her aesthetic sense had become inflamed. A crisis of some kind was toward. They were a dull grey, but the dark frizzed hair that framed her face was attractive. “YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly.
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