She felt herself shaking again. Michelle spoke to Lucy about the dinner party after the concert. ‘But if there is one, how in the world did this mystery lady of yours know of it?’ ‘That, Lucy, is precisely the point that has been exercising my mind,’ Gerald said, turning his eyes once more to the group of French exiles in the alcove. It was enough that she witnessed it and could not go to him. ‘—without telling her why,’ he finished, ignoring the interjection. “Oh, John, please!” “You are already leaving me. Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. While he was meditating flight in this way, and tossing about on the straw, he chanced upon an old broken and rusty fork.
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