“Oh, is it?” he said, with his head on one side. “Strange that both you and Harold should have got it wrong.”
I confess to a feeling of uneasiness at that moment.
Tea came, and Carter insisted on pouring.
“I do so love to pour!” he said. “Really, after a long day’s shopping, tea is the only thing that keeps me going until dinner. Cream or lemon, Leila dear?”
“Both,” Sis said in an absent manner, with her eyes on me. “Barbara, come into the den a moment. I want to show you mother’s Xmas gift.”
She stocked in ahead of me, and lifted a book from the table. Under it was the photograph.
“You wretched child!” she said. “Where did you get that?”
“That’s not your affair, is it?”
“I’m going to make it my affair. Did he give it to you?”
“Have you read what’s written on it?”