She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. Wood. Lovers' confidences should be respected. “Soul to soul. ’ ‘How shocking,’ Gerald returned, grinning. That was something in his favour. They slow danced to a Bon Jovi ballad. Was the man debating whether or no to tell the truth? A grimace played about Valade’s mouth and the general waited, maintaining his own rigid pose.
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