‘He went off alone in the canoe.’
‘How romantic,’ said Mariella.
There was a groan.
‘Mariella, why will you——’
‘What?’
‘Quack,’ said Julian. ‘You must think before you speak.’
She laughed.
‘Good-night,’ she said. ‘I’m going to bed. When you come upstairs mind and be quiet past the nursery. Remember it’s not your nursery but Peter’s now. Nannie’ll warm your jacket if you wake him again, Martin.’
Her cigarette end hit the water a few inches from Judith. Her whitish form grew dim and was gone.
‘What a night!’ said Julian, after a silence. ‘The moon is a most theatrical designer.’