The lift gate clanged, and Jane realised that the real adventure had begun.
The man by the window threw the end of his cigarette into the fireplace and came towards her.
“Parental devotion is a beautiful thing, isn’t it, Miss Renata? Suppose we have some breakfast.”
A meal, a proper meal, enough to eat! As she passed into the dining-room and beheld a ham, coffee, and boiled eggs, Jane felt as if she could confront any one or anything. Besides, the first trick was hers.
In the full light of day, and under those cold, pale eyes, she had passed as Renata.
She allowed herself to sigh and dab her eyes, and then—oh, how good was the rather stale bread, the London egg, and the indifferent ham.
The man watched her quizzically.
As she finished her second cup of coffee, he remarked that she had a good appetite, and there was something in his tone that cast a chill upon the proceedings.
Jane pushed back her chair.
“I’ve finished,” she said.