Then she hurried out of the room, wondering what on earth she should do next.
Rush out and buy another paper?
The shops were a long way off, and very likely the morning papers might be all sold out.
The station book stall?
That again was open to the same objections.
Borrow one from somebody else?
But whom?
Suddenly Lydia caught her breath.
Why not? It seemed obvious, once one had thought of it.
She hastily put on her hat, left the front door ajar behind her, and walked out into the road and down a street that ran at an angle to Regency Terrace.