Her aunt had summoned up an altogether too vivid picture of her father as the masterful man, overbearing, emphatic, sentimental, noisy, aimless. An enormous Hand that rose up swiftly, blotting out the sky. Then blackness. “Glad to see you in London. And don’t tell me what you’ve been up to, dashing off to Remenham House with that Kimble lad, and Lord knows what besides, because I don’t want to know. “Mr. ” She caressed his cheek seductively with her left palm and he closed his eyes in dreamy anticipation.
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