“My God!” he said at last, with tremendous feeling, and then again, “My God!” Now that this thing was said her mind was clear and calm. The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases. “The Chens must already be here. Not so Gosse. ” She spoke with a certain asperity. If she had once known him, if he were some former neighbour, it would be comprehensible. She guessed Jack was having trouble finding the right piece of carving. She was to fall back amongst the ruck, a young woman of talent, content perhaps to earn a scanty living by painting Christmas cards, or teaching at a kindergarten.
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