’ Kimble’s widening gaze told its own tale, but still he kept his fingers on the handle of the door. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. I trust that she will not misunderstand me. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. "You two … both of you! But for you I couldn't have done it. All her pride raged at me.
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