“I did not recognize him,” Anna answered. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. Her family are solid West End people, Kensington people. Sebastian was always a man who felt the need to surround himself with the trappings of the finer life. Very intelligent, by the looks of the books she was carrying. I want to do without that for a time. But he was always forcing her to say and do such unexpectedly conclusive things. “I will not have this slavery,” she said. “Then turn round and go back there,” she directed.
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