Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. I’ll have to wait here, of course, which means you, Hilary—’ ‘Will have to do tomorrow’s patrol. With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose. He jumped out of his own side once again and ran around the car to open hers in another theatrical display of chivalry. She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones.
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