" "Norris!" gasped Lady Trafford, trembling violently. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. Martha had not been pleased to find her spare one borrowed for that expedition when the major had found her outside the ballroom. She passed him silently as she dropped Michelle’s dried corpse into the open clay pit awkwardly, like a discarded doll. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. She was delivered home by 11:30pm. Captain Hilary Roding and his inamorata, Miss Lucilla Froxfield.
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