Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. ‘That’s right. He had his sections of the Siegfried map folded in his pocket, and he squatted up with his legs crossed like an Indian idol while she lay prone beside him and followed every movement of his indicatory finger. Only Gwen left a letter on the pincushion. “You see,” he said, “it is doubtful if we can ever marry. But her heart kept on sinking. McClintock would be on hand to tell her how and where to obtain this freedom.
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