CHAPTER IVGrace Paradine faced her brother down the length of the table. She had had her moment of blinding anger, but for all that anyone could see it had passed. She was the charming, gracious hostess, friend and confidante, of all the family. For twenty years it had been, ‘Ask Aunt Grace—Aunt Grace will know’, whenever there was anything to be done. Only Elliot Wray had stood aloof, made her no confidences—had asked her for nothing at all and had taken Phyllida. She thought of him always as a thief. He had stolen, he had robbed, but he hadn’t been able to keep what he had taken. Phyllida had come back. That James should have brought Elliot here, and tonight of all nights in the year; that Elliot should be so lost to all sense of decency as to come—these were things which were hardly to
