They are the only happy women in the Orient. ’ ‘Don’t start arguing again, for God’s sake,’ snapped Roding irritably, dragging out his own large pocket-handkerchief. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. Most of the tables were for those who smoked only and drank wine, but there were a few spread with tablecloths and laid for dinner. 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. Stop it. Ruth's arm trembled and her step faltered, but he was too far away in thought to be observant.
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