She laughed softly, and leaned across the table. The doctor missed the expression of terror and dismay that flitted across Spurlock's face. She had one idea, she found, very clear in her mind—that she would get a Research Scholarship, and so contrive another year in the laboratory. He had made himself master of the layout of the house, that was plain. She would not let her move. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. You have somewhere to go to in London, I hope.
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