Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. The unknown, previously so attractive, now presented another face—blank. She walked through the office to the door, aimlessly. Had he been listening inside? ‘What is amiss?’ ‘That Frenchie, sir. “Hey you,” he said affectionately. “Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. Even the horns were easing into the concept and the woodwinds in the second movement were particularly well-orchestrated. "I must have dropped it when I took out my note-book. At this moment, a door was opened below; lights gleamed on the walls; and the figures of Rowland and Sir Cecil were distinguished at the foot of the stairs.
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