6. RENDEZVOUSWhen I awoke I could hear Josella already moving around in the kitchen. My watch said nearly seven o’clock. By the time I had shaved uncomfortably in cold water and dressed myself, there was a smell of toast and coffee drifting through the apartment. I found her holding a pan over the oilstove. She had an air of self-possession which was hard to associate with the frightened figure of the night before. Her manner was practical, too.
‘Canned milk, I’m afraid. The fridge stopped. Everything else is all right, though,’ she said.
It was difficult for a moment to believe that the expediently dressed form before me had been the ballroom vision of the previous evening. She had chosen a dark-blue ski-ing suit with white-topped socks rolled above sturdy shoes. On a dark leather belt
