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Inside that cavity was a musty smell. As far as I could see it was like a large cupboard. I could have stepped inside but I was not going to.

Nothing, I thought, would induce me. I had a horrible feeling that if I did the doors would close on me forever.

I ran out of the room calling: “Joliffe…”

There was no answer. This was the hour when the house was quiet.

I returned to the paneled room and waited. I was not going to leave it until someone else had seen that open cavity. I had a notion that if I did it would be closed and there would be no sign of it. They would think I was having hallucinations again.

I was glad when Adam called.

I brought him straight into the room. He stared at the cavity in amazement.

“How did you discover it? To think it’s been there all this time!”

He stepped into the cavity and I followed him.

It was about six feet square.

“A sort of cupboard,” said Adam disappointed.

“Look at the lantern up there,” he said. “Quite a fine one.”

“That makes six hundred and one,” I said.

“Ah yes, we never got farther than that. This is an exciting discovery, Jane.”

“You had no idea that it was here?”

“If I had I would have explored it.”

“I think someone in the house knew.”

“Why?”

“Because I saw a piece of cloth protruding. It was not there a few days ago. That’s how I discovered it. Someone may have gone in hastily and come out hastily too, leaving a piece of the cloth of one of these garments betraying the secret.”

“Who?” asked Adam in a bewildered way.

I looked at him steadily; his face seemed expressionless in the dim light from the lantern.

“It’s interesting,” he said. “There may be other such cubbyholes in the house. These paneled rooms would be ideal for hiding such places. I wonder if there are.”

His face was impassive. One never knew what Adam was thinking. Watching him I asked myself: Did he know before? Was he the one who took the robe out and used it to frighten me? Was it Adam of whom I had caught a glimpse when I ran out of my bedroom?

“We’ll have to have a thorough examination of these lower rooms,” he said. “I think that’s Joliffe.”

It was. He called him.

“Look what I’ve discovered,” I cried.

“Good God!” cried Joliffe. “A secret panel. What’s in there? Nothing!”

I watched him closely as he stepped inside. How suspicious I was! What were his feelings? How much of his surprise was pretense?

“Another of them,” he said with a grimace. “What a find! And you discovered it, clever Jane!”

And I looked from one to the other and I thought: One of you perhaps is putting up a game of pretense. One of you perhaps knew of the existence of this place. One of you took the robe and came to my room because you wanted to delude me into thinking I was ill enough to imagine I saw what was not there. Hallucinations… the kind of visions people have when they are very sick or going mad.

I am afraid, I thought. I am threatened. But I am stronger than I was because now I know that I am in danger. I know that I must be watchful because someone who wants to be rid of me is under this roof.

* * *

Love is the betrayer and I loved Joliffe. Perhaps he was trying to kill me. I was not sure. Perhaps he wanted to share my fortune with someone else. I could entertain such fears; and yet I loved him.

I said to myself: I must watch him. I must discover why he really goes so much to Chan Cho Lan. I must understand whether he is trying to poison me.

Yet when he was near me I forgot everything but the intense joy of loving and being loved by Joliffe. My love and my fears were like two separate emotions. I couldn’t understand myself, but when we were alone together I trusted him completely.

We lay in our bed and it was early morning and not yet light. I had awakened suddenly and this was, I think, because Joliffe was awake too.

“Jane,” he said quietly. “What is it?”

“Joliffe,” I replied, and the words seemed to rush out involuntarily, “I have such fears… They come to me sometimes…”

“You should tell me. You should always tell me.”

“Sylvester… how did he die?”

“You know he was ailing for a long time. That accident was the beginning of the end for him.”

“He was well enough in England. He had an injury but it was not the sort of thing that kills. Yet he came here… and suddenly he began to deteriorate.”

“It’s like that sometimes.”

“He was listless; he had hallucinations; he walked in his sleep. The same thing happened to me.”

“People walk in their sleep when they’re run down.”

“They can be ill because they are being given something to make them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I sometimes think someone in this house is trying to kill me.”

“Jane! You’ve been dreaming.”

“It has been a long dream, going on for weeks. As soon as I saw that piece of red material in the paneling I knew. It was obvious. Someone was trying to frighten me, to undermine my health—in the way Sylvester’s was undermined—so that in time I could pass quietly away and it would all seem inevitable.”

He held me against him. I could hear his heart beating fast.

“You haven’t been well. You’ve been working yourself up to a state of anxiety about something that doesn’t exist. You saw the mask in the procession. It caught your imagination. You dreamed of it.”

“I dreamed of it before I saw it in the procession.”

“Darling Jane, it’s in every procession. You’ve seen it right from the first.”

“But I saw someone in it. It was in the secret cupboard. That was how I discovered the cupboard was there, because it was protruding.”

“Oh Jane, who would do such a thing?”

“It seems very important to me to find out. There’s so much I don’t know.”

“Understand this, Jane. I am here. No one shall hurt you while I’m here. This is not like you. You were always so bold, so brave. And you have me beside you.”

So strange it was that there in the intimacy of our bed I believed him, I trusted him absolutely.

“You are close now,” I said. “Sometimes you seem far away.”

“You’ve been suspicious about things, haven’t you? It started with Bella. I didn’t tell the whole truth, did I, and you didn’t trust me after that. I didn’t want to tell you that she had killed herself. I knew how it would affect you. You’re very sensitive, Jane. You brood; you look back; you remember.”

“Don’t you remember, Joliffe?”

“I remember what is good to remember and try to forget what is unpleasant.”

“That’s true enough.”

“It’s weak, selfish probably. But life is for enjoying, not for brooding. We had our tragedy. For all those years we were apart. I lost you and my son and now I have you back. I knew how you’d feel about Bella if you were aware of the whole unpleasant truth. You’d have some guilt feeling and imagine all sorts of things that were not accurate. So I didn’t tell you all that happened.”

“You said she died of her illness.”

“She did. It was because she knew she was going to have a painful end and that it was imminent, that she killed herself. That was dying of her illness. It was her decision, Jane, and only she had a right to make it. I believe it occurred to you that I might have pushed her out of the window. There was that nightmare of yours. I feel limp with horror every time I think of it. What might have happened on that night if I hadn’t found you?”