“Perhaps—yes, I must go, of course. But how can I?”
“Mortimer,” Patricia provided the cue.
“I’ll drive you, Aurora,” said Crabb.
“And Louis?”
DeLaunay made no sign.
“I will take care of the Monsieur DeLaunay, dear. Do you think you could trust me?”
Aurora’s lips said, “Of course,” but her eyes winked rapidly several times as she adapted her mind to the situation.
The decision reached, DeLaunay stepped forward.
“If you wish that I should go——”
“Quite unnecessary,” put in Patricia, quickly. “If your aunt Jane is sick, Aurora——”