“You have been asked to stay here for another week,” Tempera said coldly, “then we have to go back to London. Have you asked the Count what his plans may be?”
“He was talking last night of returning to Italy,” Lady Rothley said in a low voice, “but he was speaking to somebody else.”
“He has not suggested coming to London?” Tempera persisted.
“No!”
“And do you think he is likely to?”
Lady Rothley put her hands up to her face.
“Do not torture me, Tempera, I know exactly what you are trying to say. I am not so stupid that I do not understand! But how can I resist being with him whenever I have the chance? To sit beside him in his motor car is to be transported to Paradise! Oh, God, why do I feel like this? What am I to do?”
There was a silence, then weakly Tempera sat down on a chair.
