There is absolutely no point yourbeing here. Tired as she was, she couldn't sleep. 'He disappeared, his shambling body in its unpressedtrousers and checked country shirt incongruous in the chicoffice. That and the hat shehad also worn that day, a wide-brimmed navy straw -- andher new Jaeger jacket in case it got colder -- and she'd beready for anything.
''Octavia, you are not fine. Marianne must be a little mad to have dumped him. Like Desdemona's. ' Thevoice had an edge to it, but the eyes, moving over her faceslowly, were soft, thoughtful.
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