I suppose it is the mirrors and decorations. How perfectly charming. It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. It was an odd room, used principally for the reception of guests and visiting dignitaries, packed from end to end with ill-assorted sofas and padded chairs. She was greatly exercised by the problem of confiding in the Widgetts; they were dears, and she talked away two evenings with Constance without broaching the topic; she made some vague intimations in letters to Miss Miniver that Miss Miniver failed to mark. “I think, perhaps if you will excuse me, that we will defer the luncheon.
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