She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. ’ ‘Who, Joan, who? Of whom do you speak?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham. She tried not to pant, not to reveal herself, and she began to shake. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. She had all the fascination of being absolutely perplexing in this respect. Anything that had love in it! The doctor comprehended that he also had his work cut out. . He was a shy boy outwardly but she knew him better in his thoughts, in which perhaps she had already taken upon the role of lover.
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