Chapter SevenThe Marquis went into the library at a quarter-to-ten.
The fire was burning brightly and he lit more candles than had been left by the footmen and sat down to look up at his ancestor’s portrait.
He was somewhat afraid that Odela would be too nervous to come to him.
Then after he had waited for about fifteen minutes the door opened and she came in.
To his surprise her hair was hanging over her shoulders and she was wearing what he realised was a very pretty but simple dressing gown.
She ran towards him and said in a breathless voice,
“I only – came to – tell you that I – cannot come to – you as we had – planned.”
“But you are here,” he replied.
“Only to – tell you that I – cannot come – because I have had to – undress.”
She thought that he looked surprised and went on,
