Lights from the tall windows made brilliant patches and patterns across terrace and grass and flowers; the front door was open and the pleasant ruddy lamp-light streamed out.
Valentine passing and mounting the stairs caught sight of him and waved her hand in friendly salute.
"We're sterilizing Harry's shins—mother and I. The foolish boy was rather badly tusked."
"Is he all right?"
"Perfectly, and bored to death by our fussing."
She ran on up the stairs, paused again: "We're not dressing for dinner," she called down to him, and vanished.
Guild said, "All right!" glanced at the hall clock, and sauntered on into the big living-room so unmistakably American in its brightness and comfort.
But it was not until he had dropped back into the friendly embrace of a stuffed arm-chair that he was aware of Karen curled up in the depths of another, sewing.
"I didn't know you were here," he said coolly. "Have you had an agreeable afternoon?"
"Yes, thank you."