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Yet these imaginings had often seemed, when Randall was in the house, flimsy enough. They were a foolish solace, nothing dangerous. The reality of Randall was overwhelming, and with a total grasp of his existence which was perhaps, after all, love, Ann apprehended her husband, and was grateful for the extent to which, difficult as he was, he filled the scene. A Randall intermittently and still slightly apologetically in London had kept an unslackened hold upon Grayhallock and upon her. But a Randall gone to London in anger, a Randall quite generally known to be living with another woman, might be something of a different matter. Ann had, as yet vaguely, a sense of being abandoned, and with this a sense of a vacuum created into which something else might rush. More realistic now, she simply feared this. She decided for the present not to see Felix; and conjectured, half sadly, half with relief, that he had made some corresponding decision with regard to her. For she did not believe that Felix had authorized Mildred's recent invitation.

When Emma's visit had been announced Ann's first thought had been for Fanny, and her second for herself. The connexion between Emma and Lindsay Rimmer made the presence of the former at Grayhallock particularly shocking; and for a while Ann was ready to feel herself insulted. Yet Emma herself, working hard, almost terrier-like, ever since her arrival had managed quite to dispel the suspicious stiffness with which Ann had greeted her.

Ann was still walking up and down as she talked, a thing which she rarely did, and the conversation continued to wander on fairly agreeably at random.

'What a delicious cake, said Emma. 'May I have another? Have you got a cat?

'We had a cat, said Ann, 'a sweet cat, a big grey tabby called Hatfield. He was Fanny's cat, you know. But when she died he ran wild in the fields. I've seen him once or twice in the distance, but he won't come near the house.

'Oh, said Emma. And after a pause, 'It's odd how animals know. The subject had raised a little awkwardness. To send it away Ann said, 'You so often introduce cats into your books. Are you fond of them?

'I love the creatures. But I could hardly have one in my flat. It would mean too many open doors and windows, and I'm such a malade imaginaire.

'I do enjoy your books, said Ann. 'I hope there'll be another one soon.

'I'm glad if they entertain you, said Emma, 'but of course they are trivial. I wish I could have written a real book.

'I expect you will. I mean — but I do like what you write.

'There's no time now, said Emma sombrely.

The door opened and Miranda, in a purple-and-white striped dress, skipped in with the roses. Penn hovered in the doorway, uncertain whether to follow her in. Miranda brought the big jumbled bunch, which she was holding lightly together in her hands, up to Emma, curtsied and decanted it into her lap. Then before Emma could thank her she ran back out of the door, seized Penn by the Ann and jerked him after her out of sight.

'What an amusing child, said Emma. 'She seems almost capable of irony.

'Yes, she's a clever little girl, said Ann. 'Brighter than poor Penny, I'm afraid.

'Isn't he in love with her?

'How quick of you to notice! Yes, I'm afraid so. But she's too young to take anything like that seriously and she just teases him.

'I wouldn't have thought she was too young, said Emma. 'I would guess that young lady was capable of anything. Though I can imagine young Penn is not her cup of tea. She began to examine the roses one by one. The thorns made them cling to her dress. 'Now you shall tell me the names of these.

Ann spoke their names: Agatha Incarnata, Due de Guiche, Tricolore de Flandre, Sandy de Parcere, Lauriol de Barny, Bell de Crecy, Vierge de Clery, Rosa Mundi.

'What lovely stripes, said Emma, 'just like Miranda's dress. And what names! I really must write a murder story in a nursery garden. But there, how shocking I All I can think of when I find something beautiful is how to make it an occasion for violent death. The telephone rang.

'These old roses are more beautiful, said Ann. 'But of course the nursery really depends on the hybrid teas. Excuse me while I answer the phone.

She went into the dining-room and lifted the phone. 'Hello. This is Netherden 28.

After a moment a woman's voice at the other end said briskly, 'I wonder if l could have a word with Miss Emma Sands, if she's with you, please?

Ann felt confused, and then even before she knew the cause, angry.

She said quickly, 'Yes, could you hold' on, please? and put the receiver down on the sideboard. She felt herself blushing with a sudden mixture of anger and fear. It must be Lindsay Rimmer. With this there came back to her that sensation of being encompassed and plotted against with which she had first met the news of Emma's coming. The next moment she thought: is Randall with her? And she was near to tears.

She went back to the drawing-room. Emma was still examining the rose. 'You're wanted on the phone.

Emma looked surprised and began to get up. Ann helped her, supporting one Ann. The roses clung by their thorns to Emma's dress. Ann picked them off and pricked herself in the process. Emma followed her slowly to the dining-room.

'There it is, said Ann. She went out and shut the door. She intended to return to the drawing-room. But she found herself standing still where she was. Emma's conversation was audible through the door. 'Well, so I imagine. I don't know who else would ring me here.

How are things at your end? Pause.

'I see. So was it really necessary to phone me? Pause.

'Very comfortable, thank you. Hugh drives beautifully.

Pause.

'More or less. I'm not sure.

Pause.

'Naturally. I expect about eight o'clock. Would you do my sandwiches and milk as usual? Pause.

'I bless you, my child. Good-bye.

Ann had been standing listening and looking with fascination at the little bead of blood which had appeared upon her finger. As she heard Emma replace the receiver she retreated hastily to the drawing-room door, from which she advanced again to take charge of her guest. They returned to the drawing-room in silence.

Emma resumed her seat. Ann picked up the jumbled pile of roses from the floor and dumped them on the table. A few petals fluttered down. She put the tea-cups noisily on to the tray. A3 the silence continued and something new now hovered between them, Ann thought, if she mentions Randall I shall burst into tears. Anger at the possibility of being so humiliated brought her yet nearer to tears. She said, 'I must go and do the lunch. I'll return you to Hugh.

'Hugh can wait. He'll keep, said Emma. 'And lunch can wait.

'Don't go yet. She looked up at Ann with a questioning, pleading look. She seemed to be trying to frame some important request. 'What do you want? said Ann. She looked down at the older woman, standing one hand on hip with an air of hostility and authority.

The question, in its vagueness, was startling enough. 'What do I want? said Emma. 'Ah — many things. To understand you, for instance. But you must forgive me — you had forgiven me — for having come. I did once love your Absurd father-in-law very much indeed.

Ann was wondering how to reply to this when something else distracted her attention. She turned slightly to the window and saw that the very dark blue Mercedes had just swept in through the gates.

Everything left her mind except the proximity of Felix. No one else drove that car. A different blush now reddened her cheeks. She went over to the window.

The car stopped a little short of the house and Penn and Miranda came running towards it. Hugh also was hurrying across the lawn to greet the new arrivals. Mildred Finch got out and then Humphrey and Felix. When Ann saw Felix's tall figure beside the car she felt her heart turn over and fall like. a stricken bird. That 'yes' had done its work.