The Convenient Wife. Betty Neels
for an hour or two. Come and see your bedroom—we’ve only got two—Arthur will bring up your case.’
It was a dear little room, pink and blue and white, sparsely furnished, but there was everything one could need. ‘We share the bathroom.’ Lottie beamed at Venetia. ‘I don’t know what we’ll do when baby gets here.’
Venetia peered out of the small window. ‘Couldn’t you build on? There’s lots of room, isn’t there? The garden’s beautiful, and fairly big.’
‘We don’t want to leave here—we love it. Would you like to unpack? Arthur will have to go back almost at once…’
‘Will you wish him a good trip from me? I’d like to unpack, if I may.’
It was obvious from her companion’s face that she had said the right thing. She opened her case and started putting things away, and found that her thoughts, without any prompting from her, had turned to the professor. He would be going home—and to whom?
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