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resignation.
    'You know, I half guessed that's what it might be,' he exclaimed, shaking his head. 'Come on, you might as well get it off your chest. Was Rachid at the party?'
    Abby nodded. 'Liz's boss—Damon Hunter—he arranged it. I didn't know anything about it until I saw him coming in.' She moved her shoulders awkwardly. 'I got out of there as soon as I possibly could.'
    'But not soon enough, obviously,' observed her father dryly. 'I gather you and Rachid had some conversation.'
    'You could say that.' The kettle began to sing and she moved to make the cocoa. 'But not at the party. Rachid brought me home.'
    'Did he?' Her father looked surprised, and Abby hastened to explain.
    'He was waiting for me outside. He had two of his muscle men with him, so I couldn't exactly argue.'
    Professor Gillespie sighed. 'I suppose he told you, he came to see me just after your mother died?'
    Abby nodded. 'Why didn't you tell me?'
    Her father grimaced. 'I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to worry you. I mean, living in New York, away from all your friends and family—I thought it was unnecessary to alarm you.'
    'I did make friends in New York, you know,' she pointed out quiedy. 'But I know what you mean. If I'd known Rachid was looking for me, I'd probably have anticipated the worst.'
    Professor Gillespie looked troubled. 'I thought about this for a long time before I asked you to come home,' he said thoughtfully. 'I knew if you came back to England, Rachid was bound to find out sooner or later, but I felt, rightly or wrongly, that with my backing he might hesitate before upsetting you. But he has upset you, hasn't he? I can see that. What does he want? A divorce?'
    Abby's lips trembled, and she caught her lower lip between her teeth so that her father* should not see that betraying sign. 'He wants me to go back to him,' she said flatly, avoiding his startled gaze. 'He said that was why he asked you for my address.'
    Professor Gillespie sought one of the tall stools that flanked the narrow breakfast bar, and stared at her aghast. 'He wants to take you back to Abarein?'
    'Yes.'
    The Professor shook his head. 'But what about his father?'
    'Rachid says that his father will accept me.'
    'And are you going?'
    Abby gave him the benefit of her violet gaze, her pupils wide and distended. 'Do you have to ask?'
    Professor Gillespie looked more disturbed than ever. 'But Abby‑'
    'I didn't leave Rachid because of what his father said,' she retorted. 'At least, only in part. You know why I left, and that situation has not changed. Nor is it likely to do so.'
    Her father cradled his chin on an anxious hand. 'I know, my dear, but have you really considered what you are refusing?'
    Abby gasped. 'Do you want me to go back to him?'
    'I want you to be happy,' her father insisted gently. 'You know that. And I also know that you love Rachid despite‑'
    'Loved, Dad, loved she contradicted him tightly. 'I did love him, you're right. I—I loved him very much. And I thought he loved me. But the Muslim way of loving is obviously different.'
    'Abby, Rachid's a Christian, you know that. And besides, even if he were not, even if he embraced the faith of his ancestors, nowadays even kings and princes have only one wife at a time.'
    Abby closed her eyes against the pain his words evoked.
    Even now, the remembrance of Rachid's treachery hurt, but that would pass. In time, everything passed; even hatred, which was all she felt for Rachid.
    Opening her eyes again, she applied herself to the sandwiches. Then, sensing her father was waiting for a reply, she said: 'I have no intention of returning to Abarein, or to Rachid, for that matter. I made one mistake, but I don't intend to make another. Believe it or not, I like my work, I like being independent, and while I appreciate your concern, Dad, I think I know what I want from life better than you do.'
    'And what about later on? When you get older? When I'm dead and buried? What then?'
    Abby sighed. 'There's always