She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. Brendon looked across the room at her thoughtfully. Capes was an exceptionally fair man of two or three-and-thirty, so ruddily blond that it was a mercy he had escaped light eyelashes, and with a minor but by no means contemptible reputation of his own. So that it seemed to her the whole world had changed —the very light of it had changed. Then Mike came along. Mike chortled. There was also a curious interview at a big hotel with a middle-aged, white-powdered woman, all covered with jewels and reeking of scent, who wanted a Companion. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. But as she got out of the train at Morningside Park Station she had a shock. ‘She may well try to go back.
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