“Yes. Where is Madame?”
“Gone! Gigi—all gone.”
“Gone where?”
“Gone back to France—called up.”
“And Madame and Louis and Max?”
“Switzerland.”
He stood helplessly looking at her.
“Well, I must go,” she said.
He watched her with his yellow eyes, from under his long black lashes, like some chained animal, haunted by doom. She turned and left him standing.
She found Mrs. Tuke wildly clutching the edge of the sheets, and crying: “No, Tommy dear. I’m awfully fond of you, you know I am. But go away. Oh God, go away. And put a space between us. Put a space between us!” she almost shrieked.