” “We’ve both fallen on our feet! We’re the rarest of mortals! The real thing! There’s not a compromise nor a sham nor a concession between us. But the relief from the strain of her immediate necessities was immense. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. For a moment she remained silent. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. Better check on Remenham House, I suppose. Wood's anxiety to please her distinguished guests speedily displayed itself in a very plentiful, if not very dainty repast.
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