What about themselves?
Only last evening I’d left him standing, stiff with astonishment, on the Holyhead platform. This morning here he was again, blocking up the tiny entrance to our flat—my official fiancé!
CHAPTER XXVII
PARTING COMPANY
Thank heaven for the instinct that silenced the welcoming “Billy!” before it broke from my lips. Thank heaven also for that numbness all over me that allowed me to say in a voice as detached as if it had been the piano-tuner to whom I’d just opened the door, “Oh! good morning.”
“Good morning.” A tone as blank as a whitewashed wall between him and me. “I suppose you are surprised to see me.”
“Well, I—yes, I am, of course.”
“You didn’t expect me.”
“No.” We both glanced down at my sleeves, still rolled up from the kitchen.