I have an appetite which I dare not increase. ’ Chapter Three Captain Hilary Roding listened with only half an ear to the long-winded report being given by Sergeant Trodger, his idle gaze wandering over the congested traffic of Piccadilly and the many pedestrians weaving a hazardous path through it. The man’s as obstinate as a mule. “My God!” he said at last, with tremendous feeling, and then again, “My God!” Now that this thing was said her mind was clear and calm. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. An uncomfortable silence followed. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness.
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