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    "Exactly. I believe-well, Toby says-that they contain a letter from him saying that he returns the letters to her possession.”

    “So-if you are right-all the letters are my property, and the copyright in her letters is mine."

    "Exactly. It isn't cut and dried. It's open to be disputed. Sir George could dispute it and probably should. That document isn't a proper Will, it's not registered at Somerset House, there are all sorts of loopholes and chinks for contesting it. But my own opinion is, that you should be able to prove your title to the whole collection, his and hers. What is the problem is how we should proceed whilst protecting the interests of Toby here, whose position is ethically very dicey. How may this document come to light without his agency?"

    Toby said, "If Sir George disputes your claim you could spend the whole proceeds on legal fees-"

    "Like Bleak House," said Val.

    "Exactly," said Euan. "He might settle. What we need now is a way for this to come to light without Toby deliberately finding it-I think I'll have to devise a story which makes him my victim-I could persuade him to show me some of the papers in a trumped-up search-and then spring a surprise on him-"

    "Piratical," said Val, adoring.

    "If you would consider my acting for you-"

    "You won't make a lot of money," said Maud. "If the papers are mine, they will go in the Women's Resource Centre."

    "Understood. I'm not in it for the money. For the drama, the curiosity, you know? Though I think you should consider that you may have to sell-not to Cropper but to the British Library or somewhere acceptable-to pay off Sir George."

    Roland said, "Lady Bailey was good to us. She could do with the wheelchair."

    Maud said, "The Women's Resource Centre has been disgracefully underfunded since its inception-”

    “If all those papers were in the British Library, you could have microfilms and funding and a wheelchair-"

    Maud looked at him with a fighting look. "If those papers were in the Resource Centre they'd attract funding-”

    “Maud-”

    “George Bailey has been extremely unpleasant to me-and to Leonora-”

    “He loves his wife," said Roland. "And his woods.”

    “So he does," said Toby Byng.

     "I don't think," said Val, "we should start fighting over what we-you, that is, haven't got yet. I think we should take it step by step. I think we should drink to Euan, who thought up all this, and think of a next step."

    "I've got one or two more ideas," said Euan. "But they need a bit of thought and research."

    "You think I'm being greedy," said Maud, when they were at home.

    "No, I don't. How could I?”

    “I can feel you disapproving of me.”

    “You're quite mistaken. What right have I to disapprove?”

    “That means you do. Do you think I should tell Euan to go away? That's up to you."

     "Roland.”

    “It has very little to do with me." That was the problem. He felt marginal. Marginal to her family, her feminism, her ease with her social peers. There were a great many circles here, all of which he was outside. He had begun this-what should it be called-this investigation-and had lost everything-whilst handing to Maud the materials with which she could improve her own lot immeasurably-job, future, Christabel, money… he hated eating dinners he could not have paid for. He hated living off Maud.

    Maud said, "We can't quarrel now-after everything we've-"

    He was about to say they were not quarrelling, when the telephone rang.

    The voice was female, trembling, and very agitated.

    "I wish to speak to Dr Bailey."

    "This is Maud Bailey, speaking."

    "Yes. Well. Yes. Oh dear. I have thought and thought about whether I should ring you-you may think I am mad, or you may think I am simply bad-or presumptuous-I don't know-I could only think of you-and I have sat and thought about it all evening and I only see now how late it is to be ringing anyone, I must have lost all sense of time, I should perhaps ring back tomorrow, that might be better only it might be too late, well, not perhaps tomorrow, but very soon, if I'm right-it was only that you seemed concerned, you see, you did seem to care-"

    "Please-who is that speaking?"

    "Oh dear, yes. I never initiate telephone calls. I am terrified of the telephone. This is Beatrice Nest. On behalf of Ellen Ash. No, not exactly on behalf-except that I do feel-I do feel-that it is for her that I am-"

    "What has happened, Dr Nest?"

    "I'm sorry. Let me try to settle down and speak clearly. I did try to ring you earlier, Dr Bailey, but there was no answer. I didn't really expect you to answer this call, either, that is why I am so flustered and taken off my guard. Yes."

    "I do understand."

    "It is about Mortimer Cropper. He has been here-well not here, I'm at home now of course, in Mortlake, but into my room in the Museum, he has been there several times, looking very particularly at certain sections of the journal-"

    "About Blanche Glover's visit?"

    "No, no, about the funeral of Randolph Ash. And today he brought young Hildebrand Ash-well he isn't so young, he's quite old, and certainly fat, but younger than Lord Ash himself, of course-perhaps you don't know that Hildebrand Ash will succeed Lord Ash if he dies, when he dies, and he isn'twell, James Blackadder says, he certainly doesn't answer letters at all-not that I write often, there is no real need, but when I do he doesn't answer-"

    "Dr Nest-"

    "I know. Are you sure you wouldn't rather I rang back tomorrow? "No. I mean yes. I am sure. I am consumed with curiosity.”

    “I overheard them talking to each other. They believed I had gone-well, out of the room. Dr Bailey, I am absolutely certain that Professor Cropper means to disturb-to dig up-the Ashes. The grave in Hodershall. He and Hildebrand Ash together. He wants to find out what is in the box."

    "What box?" said Maud.

    Beatrice Nest, with much circumlocution and breathiness, explained what box.

    "He has been saying for years it should be dug up. Lord Ash wouldn't countenance it, and anyway you have to have a Faculty from the Bishop to disturb an interment, you know, and he could never get one, but he says Hildebrand Ash has a moralright to the box and he himself has a-a right-because he-he-has done so much for Randolph Ash-he says he-I heard him say-'Why not behave like the thieves who took Impression atSunrise, why not take it and think of a plausible way to account for whatever we find later?'-I heard him-"

    "Have you spoken to Professor Blackadder?"

    No.

    "Don't you think you should?"

    "He dislikes me. He dislikes everyone, but he dislikes me more than most. He might say I was mad, or he might think it was my fault that Mortimer Cropper had formed this dreadful plan-he hates Cropper too-I don't think he would listen. I am sick of small humiliations. You talked to me sensibly, you understood Ellen Ash, you will see how this must be stopped for her sake." She continued: "I would have tried to tell Roland Michell, but he's disappeared. What do you think I should do? What can be done?"

    "Roland is here, Dr Nest. Perhaps we should come to London. We can't really call the police-"