In a minute she must tell him to go. They would be coming out of the Hall, bursting into the room to discover the cause of her absence.
‘Are you tired?’ he said.
She nodded, realizing suddenly the collapsed forward droop of her body, the whole pose of deadly fatigue.
‘I’ve been very ill, you know.’
‘Oh, Judy! You never told me. You let me take you for that bloody cold drive. You’ll be ill again.’
‘It’s all right. I shan’t be ill again.’
‘You are naughty,’ he said, looking at her anxiously.
He never could bear people to be ill or in pain.
‘Come and lie down at once on the sofa,’ he said.
She obeyed him, and let him arrange the cushions beneath her shoulders, with a delicious sense of dependence.