On the mantelpiece in front of her was a note addressed to her in Annabel’s handwriting. “Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings. If he decided to watch television upstairs with his mother, she would probably retire before he did, but she was a light sleeper. ’ ‘Oh yes, or walked through the walls, I dare say. It is what I have done. ” She smiled at him. “Why will you not be sensible? Go back to your old life and your old friends, and forget all about Paris and this absurd delusion of yours.
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