‘I think there has been some mistake,’ she said, recalling his insistence she must share a room with him. ‘No mistake,’ she heard his harsh voice ring out from a shadowy alcove, which turned out to be a connecting door to another room. ‘Walton sent a man ahead to book us a suite. That will be all, thank you,’ he informed the landlady, who bobbed him a deferential curtsy and left. She must have looked as perplexed as she felt, for he explained, ‘Unless you expect Linney to help you get undressed and into bed, as well?’ She gasped, appalled at the very idea. ‘No, I thought not,’ said her husband. ‘A girl who works in this establishment will come to see to your needs. I will ring for you when I am ready for you, then you will come to me.’ Having delivered his edict, he turned and stomped from the room. Deborah had always thought of herself as an even-tempered person, but right at that moment, she experienced an almost overwhelming urge to smash something. Or stamp her feet and scream.
