Ray laughed.

‘Well, if I didn’t decorate the face a bit, no one would look at it. Anyhow it’s not your style. You stick to your apple-blossom, and you can hand me over all those nice barbaric shades.’

Lila pushed the box away.

‘I look frightful anyway,’ she said, ‘I fainted this morning whilst I was having that horrible wedding-dress tried on.’ There was just the least trace of satisfaction in the mournful tone.

Ray took a good deep breath.

‘If it’s horrible, why wear it?’

Lila laid down the ivory glass. Her hand shook. Her voice shook too.

‘Aunt Sybil chose it.’

‘Can’t you choose anything for yourself?’

‘You know I can’t.’

‘Not even the man?’

Lila began to cry in a gentle, childish manner. The tears welled up in her lovely eyes and trickled down over her lovely cheeks. Her lips quivered.

‘You know I can’t.’

Ray fished a clean handkerchief out of the pocket of her brown suit and tossed it over.

‘Stop it!’ she said briskly. ‘What’s the good of going on spilling the milk and then crying because it’s spilt? I’ve come here to tell you something, and you’ve got to dry your eyes and listen.’

Lila dabbed with the handkerchief.

‘Wh-what is it?’

‘I met Mr. Rumbold this morning.’

‘D-didyou?’

‘He said Bill was coming home.’

Lila stopped dabbling and said, ‘Oh-’

‘Tomorrow.’

Lila said ‘Oh-’ again.

‘Boat train from Southampton.’

Lila dropped her handkerchief. Her fingers twined helplessly.

‘What is the good?’

‘Well, there’s really nothing to stop you meeting the train, is there?’

‘I couldn’t!’

‘Oh, yes, you could. You could meet the train. You could tell Bill that Lady Dryden has bullied you into saying you’ll marry Herbert Whitall but you don’t want to, and what about it? I gather Bill’s due for a rise, and it only takes three days to get married. What about it?’ Lila sat bolt upright. She looked terrified.