The Filipino departed, and Simon lighted a cigarette and slipped the robe off his shoulders.
“Isn’t this early for you to be up?”
“I didn’t sleep so well.” She pouted, “Esther does snore. You’ll find out.”
Before the party broke up for the second time, there had been some complex but uninhibited arguments about how the rest of the night should be organised with a view to mutual protection, which Simon did not want revived at that hour.
“I’ll have to thank her,” he said tactfully. “She’s saved me from having to eat breakfast alone. Maybe she’ll do it for us again.”
“You could wake me up yourself just as well,” said Ginny. The Saint kept his face noncommittal and tried again. “Aren’t you eating?”
She was playing with a glass of orange juice as if it were a medicine that she didn’t want to take.
“I don’t know. I sort of don’t have any appetite.”
“Why?”
“Well... you are sure that it was someone in the house last night, aren’t you?”