Almost instantly she had recognized the fallacy of such a statement. Ray did not pace, he just stood. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns. It was clear by the look on her face that she decided to leave the house immediately. ‘Then I don’t advise you to visit Remenham House. Anyhow, now you’ve begun it, there’s nothing to keep us in all this from being the best friends in the world. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint.
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