“It isn't the curry so much as the chutney,” Helen protested faintly. “He never would touch any other sort.”
“Well, I shouldn't be surprised if he were here to finish the bottle,” Philippa declared. “I have a feeling this morning that something is going to happen.”
“How long has Nora gone away for?” Helen enquired, after a moment's pause.
“A fortnight or three weeks,” Philippa answered. “Her grandmother wired that she would be glad to have her until Christmas.”
“Just why,” Helen asked seriously, “have you sent her away?”
Philippa toyed with her curry, and glanced around as though she regretted Mills' absence from the room.
“I thought it best,” she said quietly. “You see, I am not quite sure what the immediate future of this menage is going to be.”
Helen leaned across the table and laid her hand upon her friend's.
“Dear,” she sighed, “it worries me so to hear you talk like that.”
“Why?”