She turned to Martha as the lad exited by the back door, but her nurse forestalled anything she might have said. She had found two copies of the magazine and carefully cut out both photos. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. ‘Been led up the garden path by that confounded rapscallion. Mentally but not physically competent. I trust that no unpleasant rumours will be circulated before the election, at any rate.
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