Capes went first, finding footholds and, where the drops in the strataedges came like long, awkward steps, placing Ann Veronica’s feet. Oriental rugs adorned the sea of shiny hardwood floors, kept polished with an eye for detail that bordered on Japanese. Even now she could trace the outline of his shape behind the left-hand curtain. The floor was strewn with screws, nails, fragments of wood and stone, and across the passage lay the heavy iron fillet. “Are you looking for Mike? He’s working. I wonder if a man can quite understand that passionate feeling? It is quite a passionate feeling. I learned of your betrothal, gleaned all the information I could simply by eavesdropping. His kind eyes were puffy with fatigue.
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