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Sheppard, whose distress at the consumption of the provisions had been somewhat allayed by the anticipation of the intruder's departure after he had satisfied his appetite, was now terrified in the extreme by seeing a light approach, and hearing footsteps on the stairs. She put her head out of the window. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady. ‘I do not wish to be like him, but it is entirely reasonable that it should be so. Your boyfriend. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. ‘It is not your affair. Long ago.
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