a screaming temper tantrum which

She signed her name without its usual flourish, more like the "Justine" which used to appear on the bottom of dutiful letters written from boarding school under the eagle eye of a censoring nun. Then she folded the sheets, put them in an airmail envelope and addressed it. On the way to the theater for the final performance of Macbeth she posted it. She went straight ahead with her plans to quit England. Clyde was upset to the extent of a screaming temper tantrum which left her shaking, then overnight he turned completely about and gave in with huffy good grace. There was no difficulty at all in disposing of the lease to the mews flat for it was in a high-demand category; in fact, once the word leaked out people rang every five minutes until she took the phone off the hook. Mrs. Kelly, who had "done" for her since those far-off days when she had first come to London, plodded dolefully around amid a jungle of wood shavings and crates, bemoaning her fate and surreptitiously putting the phone back on its cradle in the hope someone would ring with the power to persuade Justine to change her mind. In the midst of the turmoil, someone with that power did ring, only not to persuade her to change her mind; Rain didn't even know she was going. He merely asked her to act as his hostess for a dinner party he was giving at his house on Park Lane. "What do you mean, house on Park Lane?" Justine squeaked, astonished. "Well, with growing British participation in the European Economic Community, I'm spending so much time in England that it's become more practical for me to have some sort of local pied-a-terre, so I've leased a house on Park Lane," he explained. "Ye gods, Rain, you flaming secretive bastard! How long have you had it?" "About a month." "And you let me go through that idiotic charade the other night and said nothing? God damn you!" She was so angry she couldn't speak properly. "I was going to tell you, but I got such a kick out of your thinking I was flying over all the time that I couldn't resist pretending a bit longer," he said with a laugh in his voice. "I could kill you!" she ground from between her teeth, blinking away tears. "No, Herzchen, please! Don't be angry! Come and be my hostess, then you can inspect the premises to your heart's content." "Suitably chaperoned by five million other guests, of course! What's the matter, Rain, don't you trust yourself alone with me? Or is it me you don't trust?"