She wanted him, she needed sex, but the two ideas had not formed an equation where a concrete result could be deduced. Good riddance. The afternoon was her own; but from eight until midnight she sat beside the patient. What happened at Dollis Hill. Sheppard, whose distress at the consumption of the provisions had been somewhat allayed by the anticipation of the intruder's departure after he had satisfied his appetite, was now terrified in the extreme by seeing a light approach, and hearing footsteps on the stairs. Her aunt was blandly amiable above a certain tremulous undertow, and talked as if to a caller about the alarming spread of marigolds that summer at the end of the garden, a sort of Yellow Peril to all the smaller hardy annuals, while her father brought some papers to table and presented himself as preoccupied with them. Ludicrously loud sounds streamed from the array of speakers. One point in her narrative stood out beyond all others. She yielded it without protest, as though unconsciously. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. " "Did you discover any trace of footsteps?" inquired Jack eagerly.
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