It’s on the horse. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. ‘He destroyed the papers?’ ‘That’s right,’ Roding said, throwing her a glance of frowning surprise, as if he had not rated her intelligence so high. She helped herself to the remainder of the slightly congealed bacon, and reverted to the problem of getting her luggage out of the house. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner. A little darling? Lord in heaven, he had taken leave of his senses.
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