The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases. “I want to speak to you about a little thing, Vee,” said Mr. Sir John was not used to such glances, and he liked them. If you know her for the vicious, scheming wretch that she is, why in God’s name—?’ ‘She’s not a vicious, scheming wretch,’ Gerald said calmly. All this torrent of misleading, spurious stuff that pours from the press. ’ Fury was in her face. She found him reclined, watching television in a small guest room hidden in a back wing of the massive house. ‘It is the life I know. “And yet,” he said, “you bid me talk cheerfully, or not at all. I have an aunt who is coming to live with me, and I do not intend to receive any visitors at all.
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