He spoke of Dr. Traherne. She made no reply.
He spoke of Antony Crespin.
She gave no sign.
But when the young ayah came back, and offered a shawl, an exquisite, delicate thing that Lucilla Crespin had not seen before, she made a slight gesture of refusal, and said, rising, “I will go to my room now, if I may.”
“Your wish is my law,” Rukh told her quietly.
She smiled faintly at that.
“One moment,” he begged as she turned.
She did not turn back, but she paused, and waited.
“You will dine—” he asked; “you—perhaps”—his voice almost was humble—“will prefer to dine alone?”
“Yes,” she said, and gesturing the ayah to show her the way, went slowly and calmly back to the palace door.