Who Rides A Tiger. Anne Mather
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in five weeks who had become a stranger to you. Still, she argued with herself, they would soon change that once they were alone together.
The Rawlings’ house was detached but unobtrusive, without any of the expensive embellishments she had noticed on some of the houses here from the air. Inside, it was dull and unimaginative, and after meeting Marion Rawlings Dominique didn’t have to wonder why.
Marion Rawlings was a woman of about thirty-five, with wheat-coloured hair that could have looked very attractive but didn’t. She wore old-fashioned dresses, which came to well above her knees, making Dominique supremely conscious of the length of her own skirt which had not seemed at all unusual back in London, or Rio either for that matter.
She greeted Dominique with a lack of enthusiasm that was rather daunting, but her husband, Harry, more than made up for it, shaking hands with Dominique vigorously, while his rather narrow-spaced eyes viewed the attractive picture she made with a rather embarrassing intensity. Dominique decided she was not going to find the five weeks before her wedding passing very quickly.
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