Lytton asked, settling into his customary basket chair.“Busy,” I answered. It was good to be back. Our cases were hardly unpacked, and already the house thrummed with visitors. “He is preparing an essay on Manet at the moment. How did you know about his fall?”“Injuries incurred in the service of Virginia are not likely to remain secret for long,” Lytton said flippantly. “She wrote to me, terribly excited that your devoted husband fell on his sword to please her. Although, more likely, it was to please you.” Lytton reached for a slice of Dundee cake. I had telephoned ahead and asked Maud to order it from Fortnum’s for him.“He fell in the gravel, less dignified than a sword,” I said.“The gravel was next to a moving train,” Clive said, joining us in the drawing room. It was the first time I had seen him all day. He bent and kissed me, and I handed him a thick wedge of cake.“And the beau dauphin? Is he well? Belching, teething, seeing to all those important baby tasks?”
