CHAPTER THREEThe dinner was coming to an end and Shimona had been entranced with everything about it.
She had never imagined a dining room could look so attractive or that a table could be literally groaning under gold ornaments and candelabra.
It was also tastefully decorated with flowers and, as she sampled dish after dish served on gold plates by powdered flunkeys, she felt as if she was acting a part on the stage.
‘And that is exactly what I am doing!’ she told herself.
At the same time she had had no idea, she thought, that the props and the scenery would be so magnificent!
The McCraig of McCraig had not in fact been as frightening as she had anticipated.
She knew that he was eighty years of age, but he certainly did not look it, for he held himself stiffly upright and there was
