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Henry’s regiment was in Egypt, and after a leave spent very pleasantly in the Tyrol he had gone back to Cairo. James Everton was shot a couple of days before his leave was up. He had, at the time, been a good deal preoccupied with trying to make Hilary see the question of an engagement in the same light as he did. In the end they more or less split the difference, Henry asserting that they were engaged, whilst Hilary maintained that being engaged was stuffy. Snippets about the Case filtered through to Egypt. Hilary wrote voluminously about it from a passionately personal and partisan point of view, but he had never really read the evidence. He accepted the verdict, was sorry for Marion Grey, and counted the days till he could get home and make Hilary marry him. And here she was, without any intention of marrying him at all and every intention of trying to drag him into a wild goose attempt at re-opening the Everton Case. He reacted in the most obstinate and natural manner, focused the frown on Hilary, and said in his most dogmatic voice,

‘You’d better let it alone – the case is closed.’

Hilary beat her hands together again.

‘It isn’t – it can’t be! It won’t ever be closed until the real murderer is found and Geoff is free – and the more I think of it, the more I feel quite, quite sure that Mrs. Mercer knows who it is. Henry, it’s a hunch!’

Henry frowned upon the hunch.

‘What’s the good of talking like that? You say yourself that your first impression of the woman was that she was mad. I don’t mean to say she’s a raving lunatic, but she is obviously a morbid, hysterical person. If she was fond of the Greys she would naturally feel having to give evidence against Geoffrey. I can’t see anything in what you told me except that having given the evidence she apparently tried to crash in on Marion and make a scene about it.’

‘No,’ said Hilary – ‘no. No, it wasn’t that. She’d got something eating into her – I’m sure she had. Why did she say, “If I’d only seen her?” ’

‘Why does a hysterical person say anything?’

‘And why did she say things like “I didn’t get another chance – he took care of that,” and the bit about thanking God Mercer didn’t recognise me, because he wouldn’t ever have left us alone together. Why did she say that?’

Henry shrugged his shoulders.

‘If you’ve got a mad wife, you do your best to stop her annoying people – I don’t see anything in that. As a matter of fact I believe she really is unhinged.’

‘I should hate to be married to Mercer,’ said Hilary.

Henry burst out laughing.

‘Hilary, you really are!’

Hilary looked at him in a melting manner which it had taken her a good deal of time and trouble to acquire. She had copied it from a leading film star, and she wanted to seewhat effect it would have on Henry. It didn’t seem to have any effect at all, and as she began to feel that it was going to bring on a squint, she permitted a natural sparkle of anger to take its place.

‘When you make eyes at Henry, he

Behaves as if he didn’t see,’

said Hilary’s imp in a sort of piercing mosquito whisper. The angry sparkle became a shade brighter. Henry was a beast – he really was. The man in the film had gone down like a ninepin. It really wasn’t the slightest use making eyes at Henry, and if he was the last man left in London she wouldn’t marry him. She would almost rather be married to Mercer. No, she wouldn’t. A shiver went all down the back of her neck, and she said in a hurry,

‘You know what I mean. It would be enough to drive anyone into a lunatic asylum, I should think.’

‘Then you agree that she’s mad.’

‘No, I don’t. And the more Mercer follows me round and tells me she is about twice in every sentence, the less I’m going to believe it.’

Henry got up.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Mercer. Henry, his name’s Alfred. Isn’t it awful?’

‘Hilary – has he been following you?’

She nodded.

‘Yes, darling -I told you he had -most persistent. I should think he probably followed me all the way from Solway Lodge to Pinman’s Lane to where I got on to my bus, because he was talking to me most of the way and telling me about Mrs. Mercer being out of her mind, and when he’d said it more than six times I began to wonder why he was saying it.’

Henry sat down on the arm of the chair beside her. There was just room and no more.

‘Perhaps because it was true,’ he said

‘Or perhaps because it wasn’t.’

Their shoulders were touching. She looked round at him with a defiant gleam in her eye and prepared to do battle. But Henry had dropped his point. He put his arm round her in a sort of matter-of-course way as if they were still engaged and said,

‘That’s odd.’

‘What is?’

‘Mercer’s following you round like that.’

Hilary nodded. Henry’s arm made a good back – something nice to lean against. She said,

‘He’d found out that it was me in the train. I expect he bullied it out of her, poor thing. And he wasn’t quite sure what she’d said to me, but he was going to make sure that whatever it was, I wasn’t going to believe it. Now if he could make me believe that she was mad – Henry, don’t you see?’

Henry’s arm tightened a little.

‘I don’t know – she might really be mad,’ he said. ‘But it’s funny – was it today he followed you?’

‘Just now – just before I came here. Why, Henry?’

‘Well, it’s funny that he should have been saying it to you just about the same time that Bertie Everton was saying it to me.’

Hilary whisked round so suddenly that she would have fallen off if Henry hadn’t clutched her.

‘Here – hold up!’

‘Bertie Everton!’ said Hilary, taking no notice of being clutched.

‘That’s what I said. He went out as you came in. Didn’t you see him?’

‘Of course I did -he’s not the sort of person you can miss. Did he tell you Mrs. Mercer was out of her mind?’

‘Several times – same as Mercer did to you.’

‘Henry, you’re not making it up to pull my leg or anything of that sort? Because if you are – ’

‘What?’ said Henry with interest.

Hilary wrinkled the top of her nose at him.

‘I don’t know, but it’ll probably begin with never speaking to you again.’

‘That would give you lots of time to think out what you were going to do next! All right, I’m not for it this time. And I’m not pulling your leg.’

‘Bertie Everton came here on purpose to tell you Mrs. Mercer was out of her mind?’

‘Not ostensibly – nothing so crude as that. He knew old Henry Eustatius – said he’d bought a set of Chippendale chairs from him and was doing needlework covers for the seats – petit point or something of that sort. And I was afraid he’d find out that I had only a very hazy idea of what petit point was, so I tried to switch him off on to china – I’ve been burning a lot of midnight oil over china lately – and he said, “Oh, yes,” and “Quite.” And then he mentioned you, and said were you a friend of mine, and I said “Yes” – which was a bit of a lie, of course.’ Here Henry paused, the obvious intention being that Hilary should (a) burst into tears, (b) contradict him, or (c) fall into his arms.

Hilary didn’t do any of these things. Her colour rose brightly and her tongue flicked out at him and back again.

Henry frowned and went on as if he had never stopped.

‘And then, I think, he got me to mention Marion, and after that it was all plain sailing – something on the lines of what an unpleasant thing it was for the whole family, and a bit about Geoffrey’s temper, and then to Mrs. Mercer by way of everyone liking him, and – “My uncle’s housekeeper has never got over having to give evidence against him. She’s gone clean off her head, I believe.” And then he went off at a tangent about that big blue jar in the shop, but after a bit Mrs. Mercer cropped up again, and he said what a queer thing it was that she should have got so worked up over the Everton Case. “She can’t think or talk about anything else,” he said – “pretty bad luck on her husband, and all that”. And then a piece about what a decent soul Mercer was, and then a bit more about the blue jar. And then you come in and he went out. And there we are.’