“‘The man who wants me is the man I want’,” he quoted, and left the room.
When the door had closed behind him, Flora said to her sister, with a certain ruthless disregard of Quentillian’s presence that at least established the earnestness of her concern:
“What shall we do?”
“Nothing,” said Lucilla laconically.
“But we can’t let him see that Review. Adrian sent it to me—it’s got something in it by that man Hale. Father would hate the whole thing.”
Lucilla looked at Quentillian.
“He won’t like my article, and I should very much prefer him not to read it,” said the author candidly.
She smiled slightly.
“It’s the one on the Myth of Self-Sacrifice?”
Owen nodded.