Georgia freed herself and walked slowly round the room, her black dress rippling over her strong, slender thighs.
Ferdie was silent for some time. He sat on the edge of the table, his head bowed, so that the inadequacy of his dark curling hair was revealed. He was thinking, and it occurred to Mr Campion that he had never seen a man think more obviously. The man’s brain was almost audible.
“Hey,” Ferdie said suddenly, “how the hell did you know?”
He swung round and sprawled across the table, looking up into Georgia’s face.
“What?”
“How did you know that you were free to marry Ray Ramillies? Portland-Smith’s body’s only just been found.”
Georgia shied away from him and from the question, but he caught her and pulled her round to face him. There was a tremendous force in the man and his
