They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. ” 162 “Mmmm-hmmm. He lowered his voice a little and leaned over towards her. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. Later, when they returned home, she would serve as the topic of many conversations. I suppose you will think me very unsisterly and cold-hearted, but there are circumstances in connexion with my sister’s latest exploit which are intensely irritating both to my husband and to myself. His breath grew shallower as he approached the room, conscious of the loudness of his hallway-reverberated footfalls.
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