“Sheila and Mark McCloskey?” Michelle asked. Sheppard, with a faint smile and a doubtful shake of the head, as Wood drew her to a seat beside him, "for I've had my full share of misery. He HAD followed her! What had he followed her for? He must have followed her all the way from beyond Grosvenor Square. 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.
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