“Mike, what’s going on?” She sat up, groggily rubbing her eyes. In their happiest times, he was the most faithful and devoted of husbands. Gerald watched her vanish into the darkness, unusually incensed. She, having all the confidence in the world, ripped off an end and drew out the contents—a letter and a check. ‘Aye, sir. The picture of Mary Remenham was still on the wall. ‘What is it?’ ‘Er—shouldn’t I tell—I mean, the young lady, sir—’ ‘You can leave the young lady to me.
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