Adele came across to where Michael was sitting and jumped up on to the table beside him.
“Mr. Knebworth is quite right,” she said, shaking her head. “Reggie Connolly doesn’t know how to make love.”
“Who does?” demanded Michael. “Except the right man?”
“He’s supposed to be the right man,” she insisted. “And, what’s more, he’s supposed to be the best lover on the English screen.”
“Ha ha!” said Michael sardonically.
She was silent for a time, and then:
“Why are you still here? I thought your work was finished in this part of the world.”
“Not all,” he said cheerfully. “I’ve still an arrest to make.”
She looked up at him quickly.
“Another?” she said. “I thought, when you took poor Sir Gregory——”