'I thought I saw her go into the library,' answered McIntyre to an unknown questioner. She stiffened, quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. Kataya knocked lightly, then entered.
'Hello, Commander. Am I disturbing you? I'd hoped to speak with Sylviana.' There was no animosity in her voice. If anything, it was softened and conciliatory. 'Would it be all right?'
Though the question had been directed to Stenmark, Sylviana felt the intrusion keenly, as if she had received yet another slight from this woman, who continued to encroach upon her most intimate acquaintances.
'Anything you have to say to me,' she replied without turning,
'You can say in front of the Commander.'
Stenmark began to rise diffidently, but she took his arm and would not let him, unsure herself if she wanted his strength to lean upon, or simply did not wish to grant anything so personal to the woman who had hurt her so badly.
'Really, Sylviana, maybe I should go.' But the childlike anguish he saw in the honest look she gave him, made him turn instead with a sigh.
'Please come in,' he said.
'Are you sure, Sylviana? It's very personal.'
'You heard my answer,' she said coldly, still not turning.
'Speak to me here, or not at all.'
'All right. The Commander will have to be informed in any case.' Kataya took a deep breath, trying with all her self-discipline not to sound too triumphant.