‘I must see the lady who is my great-aunt. Jack's life hangs on your determination. There it is. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. ‘As I said, a mistake. Her eyes noted it mercilessly. I'll be with you in a jiffy. Then he turned with a fierce movement to take her into his arms. They went down the great staircase of the building, and, while she sought in her mind for a beginning, he broke into appreciation of her simple dress and selfcongratulations upon their engagement. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. You love Ennison. I wonder if he really wants me to go home.
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