A wedding procession turned the corner. Hoddy! All her fears fell away. " "I think I remember reading something about your father in the papers," observed Wood. He could not contain his satisfaction, but chuckled, and rubbed his hands with delight. What were you doing at Remenham House? I can’t puzzle that bit out. ‘If you did not want me to talk of it,’ she told him with characteristic insouciance, ‘you should not have mentioned the matter to me. He declined supper, but took wine. There was question in Gerald’s gaze as it met hers, and apology in his voice. She wore a wonderful dress of turquoise blue, made by a great dressmaker for a function which she knew very well now that she would never attend. People had started filling the hall: instrumentalists, overly conscientious parents. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town.
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