But I've an idea as well as you, grounded in some measure upon Sheppard's story. His last actions were futile. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. He would pick a random member of the ever-shifting household for the sake of example. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. ” He took them from her and read them. “What made you marry him? What made you leave Paris without a word to any one? What made you and your sister exchange identities?” “There is one answer to all those questions, Nigel,” she said, with a nervous little shudder. "To me?" gasped Winifred.
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