There was an instant of complete silence. In the moment of suspended animation only Ruth moved. Ruth sat up and sparkled with anticipation.
Then Bee's hand moved again and went on filling the glasses. "That is very nice," she said. "We needn't keep luncheon back after all."
It was so beautifully done that Brat, knowing what he knew now, felt like applauding.
"Where is Simon?" Eleanor asked casually.
"He was coming downstairs," Jane said; and her eyes went back to Bee.
The door opened and Simon Ashby came in.
He paused a moment, looking across at Brat, before closing the door behind him. "So you've come," he said.
There was no emphasis on the words; no apparent emotion in the tone.
He walked slowly across the room until he was standing face to face with Brat by the window. He had abnormally clear grey eyes with a darker rim to the iris, but they had no expression in them. Nor had his pale features any expression. He was so tightly strung, Brat thought, that if you plucked him with a finger he would twang.
And then quite suddenly the tightness went.