You were content, and I came to thrive on your happiness. But I'll call a doctor, since you order it. He drove her to the Beck house, pulling up behind Cathy's red Nissan. She produced from the depths of her pride the ugly investigatory note of the modern district visitor. In Paddington. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here.
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