His car, a black Alfa Romeo, waited at the end of the subdivision. “Sir John!” Annabel gasped. Manning came into her thoughts again, an unexpected, tall, dark, self-contained presence at the Fadden. He was always doing his best to call her attention to the fact that he was a man of spirit and quality and experience, and she a young and beautiful woman, and that all sorts of constructions upon their relationship were possible, trusting her to go on from that to the idea that all sorts of relationships were possible. It shall never be said that I raised my arm willingly against a woman. There are way-stations—even terminals. “The life of a private secretary is positively one of slavery.
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