“Indeed I should, Mr. Ho. Please forgive me.”
Quong Ho bowed and retired. Baltazar drew a chair for her. “Now what’s wrong, my dear?”
“Godfrey.”
“My God!” he cried. “Not an accident? He’s not hurt?”
“Oh no, no! Nothing of that sort.” She smiled in wan reassurance.
Baltazar breathed relief. “I believe if anything happened to him now, it would break me,” he said.
“He came round to see me an hour or so ago.”
“After he left here. To tell you of his appointment. Aren’t you glad?”
“Of course I am. But I should be more glad if that had been all.”
“What’s up?” he asked, frowning. “Tell me straight.”