“Well?” she said. Katy’s face was vapid and undistinguishable from a crowd, but pretty in an abstract sense, like the face of a baby doll. S. Capes stood side by side upon an old Persian carpet that did duty as a hearthrug in the dining-room of their flat and surveyed a shining dinner-table set for four people, lit by skilfully-shaded electric lights, brightened by frequent gleams of silver, and carefully and simply adorned with sweet-pea blossom. She felt a cheat and a sneak to his unsuspecting retreating back. “It’s—private. ’ For the first time since she had heard the news, Mrs Sindlesham’s features relaxed and a tiny smile appeared. Taber and no one comment upon it.
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