“That this summer, while you’re gone—”
“Well?”
“There will be news.”
“You mean from—”
“Yes,” Bella steeled herself. “As soon as I’d got you out of the way—”
Hildegarde winced; rather dreadful that she should have said that to Bella—too like what the average male critic would expect. “Did I say you, Bella? I only meant fate.”
“You were sure he would come this summer. Stay and see.”
“It’s only if I’m not here that John Galbraith will come.”
Hildegarde had a final interview with the arch culprit, Cheviot.