"Very well," said Effie. "And I'll ring through to the valet downstairs to pack your things."
"Thanks," said Callaghan.
He lit another cigarette, put his feet back on the desk.
SOMEWHERE in the house a clock chimed ten. Callaghan knocked the ash off his cigarette, stood looking over the wide expanse of lawn that ran down to the woodland at the back of Deeplands.
A nice place to live in, he thought, lots of space and air and not too many people.
He walked along the wide veranda that ran the entire width of the back of the house, let himself into the smoking-room, through the french windows, crossed the room, walked down the long, oak wainscoted passage into the library.
Mrs. Wilbery was pouring out coffee. She was alone. Callaghan looked at her appreciatively. She wore a long bottle-g
