“If there are, Uncle Etienne will not let us near them. But Cousin Jacques has friends.”
Arletta wanted to ask who they were, but then thought that it would be a mistake.
When she climbed into bed, she recalled in her mind everything that had been said and had happened and thought that it was all so extraordinary that she really ought to write it down for Jane and send it to her out in Jamaica.
‘If I was clever, I could write a novel about it,’ she mused, ‘although at the moment, if I am the heroine, there is certainly the lack of a hero!’
*
The following day it was a relief to learn when the Comte did not appear that he had gone away to stay with friends.
“It will be much nicer without him,” David said darkly. “He says one thing, but his eyes say another.”
“You are too fanciful,” A
