"I'm sorry. What would you like to do this morning?"
"I'm going out."
"You mean that you don't wish me to come?"
Christine shrugged her shoulders.
"Come if you wish—certainly."
They left the hotel together. It was a bright sunny morning, and
London was looking its best. Christine rushed into haphazard speech.
"Have you heard from your brother again?"
"No; I hardly expected to."
Something in the constraint of his voice made her look at him quickly.
"I suppose—I suppose he really is coming?" she said with sudden suspicion.