” “You and I and Brendon get on all right, don’t we?” Sydney objected. ” Brendon reappeared, followed by a tall thin man with a stubbly brown moustache and restless grey eyes. “After all, why should he be surprised?” she remarked. For a moment he did not recognize Annabel. ‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary. If she had once known him, if he were some former neighbour, it would be comprehensible. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave.
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