Taken aback, Mathilda exclaimed: "You thought he might have?"
"Oh yes!" Maud replied matter-of-factly. "You see, I have lived with Joseph for nearly thirty years. You none of you understood him."
Mathilda looked at her in blank astonishment. "Didn't you - didn't you like him?" she asked.
"I liked him when I married him, naturally," Maud answered. "I have disliked him very much for many years now, however."
"Yet you went on living with him!"
Maud rose, rearranging the scarf she wore round her shoulders. A small, tight smile just widened her little mouth. "I was brought up to believe that one married for better or for worse," she said. "I daresay you thought that because I used to be an actress I didn't care about such things. But I have always believed in doing one's duty. Joseph was not unfaithful to me, you see." She walked across the room to the door. "I shall not come duwn to dinner," she stated. "It would make you all feel uncomfortable, if I did. Is there anything more you wish to say to me, Inspector?"
"No, madam, nothing more," Hemingway said, as astonished as Mathilda.
"Would you like me to come up with you?" asked Mathilda.
"No, thank you, dear. Just tell them to send dinner to my room, please, and don't worry about me. I shall be quiet happy, making plans for the little house I've always wanted to live in." She paused, and glanced up at Stephen, who was holding the door open for her. She smiled again. "By myself!" she said simply, and walked out of the room.