He rolled onto his belly, freeing himself from her hands, pushing her away. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. In vain Wood protested his innocence. Why had he glanced up—quite in that way?. She wondered what the problem was, why the buildup? She wanted to go to his apartment that evening but stayed herself. That is why I came to London. White men and natives dealt conveniently at Copeley's. As usual the substantive sister—Prudence—did all the talking for the pair; Angelina, the shadow, offered only her submitting nods.
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