”“Of course,” said Billy, trying not to laugh. Helen gave a gasp, putting her hands over her eyes. It’s the only day you’ve got really. He must be desperately jet-lagged.
Now she sat in her room feeling ashamed of herself and gazing at Harold Mountjoy’s photograph, which seemed to have lost all its appeal. The scent of lilac and lilies of the valley kept drifting in from outside, as insistently he kept drifting into her thoughts. “I think I was given a tour of every petal,” said Molly Maxwell. ”“You must be starving.
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