"You've been strangely subdued these few hours, dearest," Lucy observed, disguising her concern as a throwaway remark. But I knew better. She had discerned my mood but not, of course, its cause.
Could I tell her? Should I?
A hotel porter having finally delivered the last of our luggage to our room, we had settled ourselves on our balcony and awaited... what? We awaited dinner, of course: it was five in the evening and dinner was at seven. Yet I was agitated, as if I awaited something important. I shook my head. I had no idea what I waited for.