‘Have you any more pretty toys like that knife about you?’ ‘The girl’s a regular arsenal,’ Hilary snapped, giving up into his senior’s hand the nasty little weapon he had snatched. Run along now; but return in half an hour. ‘You cannot read my mind at all, monsieur. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. “Okay. Under the circumstances you must permit me to be the best judge of the identity of the young lady who did me the honour, as an old family friend, of dining with me. ‘But only think, Hilary,’ Lucy protested, evidently too involved in her theory to waste time in scolding.
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