Now Warren had begun to prefer the bridge table.
It was only when he saw Raymond whispering to Magnolia the night before they returned to London that he wondered what they had to say to each other, but was glad they could be such good friends.
Then, as they travelled back alone in a reserved carriage with Magnolia’s maid in the next door compartment, she said a little tentatively,
“I have something to tell you, Warren.”
“What is it, my precious?” he asked. “And have I told you how beautiful you look today? Every time I see you, you are lovelier than yesterday!”
“Thank you,” she replied, “but I want you to understand that while I still love you, I cannot marry you!”
“What do you mean?” Warren asked.
He spoke sharply because he was so astonished and then thought he could not have hear
