For a moment or two he held her to him, helping her to choke her sobs against his breast.
"Won't you tell me what it is?"
"How do you know there's anything more than that?" and she pointed towards the bed.
"Len told me."
"About Quentin?..."
"Quentin!"
"Yes—I thought you said he'd told you."
"He told me you were wretched about something. But who's Quentin?—not Quentin Lowe?"
They were the very words Len had used, and Janey shuddered.
"Yes ..." she said faintly, "Quentin Lowe."