One of your aunts died, I believe, and the other removed to London. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. Picked up the photograph, looked at it, handed it back, and never batted an eye! The act was as clear as daylight, but the motive was as profoundly mysterious as the race itself. “It was a phase,” she said. He kissed her again. ’ A laugh escaped her. Probably something he had eaten. She felt the bedsprings coil as he moved from his seated position, entranced. A remittance man.
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