CHAPTER THREEBackground
David Malcolm had arrived, and was having tea with Clara in front of the library fire; he was a dark young man of medium height, less disillusioned than he liked to appear. A big tawny chow lay beside Clara’s chair, and a yellow cat, younger and smaller than Martin, rushed up to greet that ancient and tried to wrestle with him. Martin stood with his eyes shut and his head up out of the way, not interested. The smaller cat fawned on Gamadge.
“Hello, Junior,” said Gamadge. “Hello, Dave. I’m asked out to dinner, Clara. You’re not. Mrs. Avery Bradlock thinks you’re cinquecento and an angelic bystander, but she didn’t invite you to dinner. No stray wives for the Bradlocks. It’s a business conference.”
He sat down and Clara passed him a cup. She said: “Then Mrs. Bradlo
