McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. Paul’s, were rich and wonderful with the soft sunshine of London, the softest, the finest grained, the most penetrating and least emphatic sunshine in the world. ‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. She moved then, fast, taking refuge behind a Chinese screen that was set beside the four-poster at the back of the room. ’ ‘Alone, miss?’ ‘Certainly alone. I owed his father a grudge: that I settled long ago.
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