"Free in the evenings," he interrupted jerkily. "My only time for calling."
She hesitated and, as I thought, sank her voice slightly, putting herself on the defensive.
"You'd only be bored, you know," she warned him. "It isn't an ordinary house, and you won't meet ordinary people."
"Coming to see you," Grayle answered.
"You clearly aren't wanted, Grayle," I said, taking him by the arm. "If you insist on dragging me to the House, let's start at once."
He shook free of my hand and turned to her, as though he were delivering an ultimatum.
"You don't want me to come?" he demanded.
"You won't be amused," she answered, this time in unmistakable distress.
"Where do you live?" he asked relentlessly.
"In Westminster." I was rather shocked by the way in which she allowed him to bully her. "A house called 'The Sanctuary,' on the Embankment, just by the Tate Gallery."