The atmosphere was 46 strained and deathly quiet at the dining room table. ‘I must see the lady who is my great-aunt. The flight. I am a thing to be used. You shirk a straightforward and decent return for what you get from us— taking refuge in purity and delicacy and such-like when it comes to payment. At last, she breathed. It was no use. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. She was chic, distinguished, unusual. She had only to get through this, to solace Manning as much as she could, to put such clumsy plasterings on his wounds as were possible, and then, anyhow, she would be free—free to put her fate to the test.
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