It ought never to have begun. “There is one thing I must concentrate on at the moment,” she told herself, “and that is how to pay my next week’s bill to Mrs. ” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees. “Impossible to say,” he answered. It was, in his opinion, the most astonishing letter he had ever read. Her likeness to her sister gave him at first almost a shock; a moment afterwards he was conscious of a wonderful sense of relief. The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly.
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