She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. Gerald looked at it, then at her face. Hilary made a movement as if he would seize the opportunity to disarm the girl, but Gerald stopped him. She dressed quickly, pulling on white jeans and a red tee shirt. “All these days I have taken her for you. I’m so glad you’re not angry. " Still the voice was without emotion; calm, colourless. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis.
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