There followed after this a long description of Dart Huron’s wealth and possessions in America, of the various films in which Lulu Carlo had appeared.
But Aria did not read any further. She could only sit trembling, the newspaper rustling in her fingers, every vestige of colour drained from her face.
It was then that she knew what she must do.
She must go back!
She rose to her feet almost instinctively, even as Nanny, coming into the room to collect the dishes, saw the expression on her face and exclaimed,
“What’s the matter, dearie?”
“Mr. Huron has been shot,” Aria said, and was somehow surprised that her voice sounded so normal, so unhysterical.
“Good gracious and who has shot him?” Nanny asked, drawing her reading glasses in their black case out of the pocket of her apron.
“I mu
