\"May I come in?\" His bravado was increasing. I’ve got a streak of male. And yet the secondary emotion was one of suspicion. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. She paused. ‘Lord,’ he uttered, glancing about with a disparaging eye. ‘Talk to me another time.
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