They trudged and talked, and Manning struggled, as he said, to “get the hang of it all. Both arm-chairs had been moved a little so as to face each other on either side of the fender, and in the circular glow of the green-shaded lamp there lay, conspicuously waiting, a thick bundle of blue and white papers tied with pink tape. Before Jonathan followed he turned to face his assailants. Double-crossing wouldn't do any good. “Martin Chen!” Michelle shouted his name in an outburst, like an invocation. At once. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned.
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