“Are you sure you’re all right, Gill?”
“Right as rain, dear, right as rain. Why?”
“I don’t know,” said Katharine. “I thought you sounded—er—not quite yourself.”
“Well, I’m not really. I—I had a dream last night.”
“Did you? What did you dream?”
“I—I forget now,” stammered Giles. “But—you know. It’s sort of unsettled me.”
“Well, do be careful, dear. It worries me to hear you so—so unlike yourself.”
“Does it? I mean—am I?”
Forsyth writhed.
“Gill, what is the matter?”