Anna stepped back at once with a little gasp of relief. He drew a little breath and stepped back. She had come to the end of her resources. His anger gave way to grim humour and he thrust towards them, leaning heavily on his cane. Following her lead, he fortified himself with a swallow of the excellent Madeira before responding. It was a shame that they had made such a fuss, she thought as he arrived. He uttered a short laugh. She was finally dead, going to Hell. She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness. There’s the internal factor as well as the external. She asked the girl to fetch Mr.
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