She had found that proof. She moved then, fast, taking refuge behind a Chinese screen that was set beside the four-poster at the back of the room. “How shall I put the question? What am I? What have I got to do with myself?. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. Wanting his coat, when he must have known that the pockets were empty! But the effort to talk had cost him something. “I must repeat,” Sir John said, “that I much regret disturbing you at such an unseemly hour. Look somewhere else in life. First-off, he had decided not to tell her what he had found at the bottom of that manila envelope. That was the only sound he heard.
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