"I never told my mum about it," she continued after a long pause. "She never gave any credit to my aunt's writing, so it was a topic they didn't usually mention in their conversations. I didn't want to upset either of them."
Kathy relaxed in her armchair. Whatever it was Geneva wanted to tell her, there was no apparent reason to be wary. The young woman was filling her in on her personal experience, which was the opposite of hostile.
Unless she were trying to assert her family bonds - and rights - against her.
"What is it you want to discuss with me?" she suddenly asked, not wanting to sound rude, but unwilling to hear any more confessions if these were meant to hurt her, as might be the case.
Geneva seemed embarrassed after her interlocutor's question. She'd obviously intended to expound on further details of some sort before going into the subject, but, forced by the sudden tension which began to fill the room, she chose concision.
"The royalties my aunt left me… I'd like to invest them in your hotels."
Kathy wasn't sure what that meant.
"You want to… buy them?"
"No," she hastened to answer. "By no means. I'm talking about a shareholding - in the business, not the property."
Kathy raised her eyes and fixed her gaze on the beautifully arranged books. Could this really be happening? On the day of their arrival, Mrs. Sloan had shown her all the rooms and, with special pride, the library. It didn't house tons of books - it wasn't meant to brag or deceive -, only those which had touched her heart or nourished her thoughts in some way or other. And now here she was, making plans about the things her dear friend had so finely gathered, as if they'd lost all connection to their rightful owner.
She looked at Geneva again. Some seconds ticked away on a clock in a different room. She had to say something, but nothing sounded just right. Once more she felt she didn't belong in this picture. In this house this very moment.
"You must be awfully tired." It was Geneva who spoke. "After a long flight… And I'm depriving you of a good night's sleep with my chatter. We can talk tomorrow, can't we?"
The apparent lighthearted end she wished to confer on their conversation made Kathy aware that the pain of tears she was feeling in her eyes was visible - and shared by Geneva.
Neither of them felt like discussing material matters anymore.