What scoundrel could write such an outrageous letter to a
married woman?’ demanded Robert as he adjusted his glasses.
Anna turned, horrified to see her husband standing behind her
an
d staring down at the letter, beads of sweat appearing on his
fo
rehead.
‘Don’t ask me,’ said Anna coolly, as Muriel appeared by her
side, tennis racket in hand. Anna folded her letter, passed it over to
her oldest friend, winked and said, ‘Fascinating, my dear, but for
your sake I do hope Reggie never finds out.’