CHAPTER SIX
The next morning Vanda breakfasted alone in her room. After waiting for her in the restaurant downstairs, Robert came to find her.
He was forced to admit that she looked a picture sitting at a table in the alcove by the window. The sun, streaming into the room, brought out blue highlights in her black hair. Her gown was made of soft fine wool in a delicate tawny shade that suited her perfectly.
For a moment his admiration checked the words he had meant to utter. But the moment passed.
“You might have informed me of your decision to take breakfast in your room,” he said.
“I saw no need to inform you,” she declared in austere tones. “I did not wish for your company this morning.”
“May I enquire why?”
“I should have thought that the reason must be perfectly obvious to you,”
