‘Do you think I do not know? What am I doing here, do you think?’ ‘That’s just exactly what I’ve been asking myself,’ he returned. ’ ‘Tchah! Better a doubtful welcome here than a confounded French convent. Like a petulant child he snapped. ’ Kimble’s eyes widened. Sir John was not used to such glances, and he liked them. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home.
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