CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURMarion was still in a cold rage when they arrived at the flat. A hot anger would have been so much easier to meet. When you love someone and they look at you as if they had never seen you before and never want to see you again, it does rather take the edge off coming home.
Hilary subsided on to the floor in front of the fire. There was a chair to lean against. She folded her arms on the seat and pillowed her head upon them. Henry, in the open doorway, was very well aware that he hadn’t been asked to come in, and that he was not expected to stay.
Marion had walked to the window. As she turned, Henry came in and shut the door. With a lift of her eyebrows she said,
“I think Hilary ought to go to bed.”
Hilary said nothing. Henry said,
“I think you’d better hear what she
