Chapter Thirty-fourWilliam and Katharine came back to Rasselas Mews on the Sunday night. Katharine could hardly believe that they had been away for something less than thirty-six hours. So much, so very much, had happened in that short, strange space of time. She was Katharine Eversley again, for one thing. There was a strangeness in that. To come back to the name of her girlhood, to the name of the bride of that last year before the war, and to the name which she had borne through the bitter years of widowhood, and to come back to it with the bitterness all gone and happiness flooding in—this in itself made the day before yesterday seem like something which had been left behind a long time ago.
There was a parcel on the doorstep at the top of the flight of twelve steps which led to the f
