He was standing by the double doors that opened onto the terrace and back garden. It was still early, not long after sunrise, and the garden was deep in shadow. He didn’t turn as she came into the room. “You’re an early bird,” she said. “No worms though,” he replied without turning around. “Have you had breakfast?” she asked. “Yes, yes. I made a pot of, pot of, you know. Should still be warm. If you want some.” “What are you looking at?” He didn’t reply. She came and stood beside him. “That dressing gown is dreadful,” she said.…