16: Dinner For Three
GYDA McCOUL put down her coffee cup and rose to her feet, and at her movement Tyrrell too stood up, and turned to open the dining-room door for her. But before he could move toward it she spoke.
"No-please, Philip. I don't want to leave you—only to come and sit with you while you finish your coffee. Do sit down."
Clad, as when she had dined at Dowlandsbar before, in shimmering grey, she was a ghostly, indistinct figure outside the range of the candlelight from the table as she came past her father toward Tyrrell's chair. McCoul, so leaned back that his face was in shadow, stirred his coffee absently, and Tyrrell seated himself again as Gyda perched herself on the arm of his carving chair, and then laid her arm across his shoulders. He looked up at the touch, and smi
