When she finished her last cadence, Carolyn and Thomas begged her to play encores. It must be the dawn creeping in. Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. “He’s a Fellow of the Royal Society, and he can’t be much over thirty,” said Miss Klegg. Spurlock had seen Rollo heading for the jungle, and for some reason he could not explain the incident had bothered him. “Fancy stabbing a man for jealousy!” she thought.
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