But she did not believe he would do that. She approached Ruth with open arms; and something in the way the child came into that kindly embrace hurt the older woman to the point of tears. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. 82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. ‘Where is Gérard?’ ‘Out of town,’ Hilary said briefly. A dressing-room then. “But Sir John?” he exclaimed. “I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz.
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