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“That’s what I wanted,” she said. “Thank you, Claudine.”

I hesitated. This was the room which they shared legitimately. I thought of that other room… dusty blue curtains and the mysterious voice which had come to me through the speaking tube.

I did not want to think about Millicent and Jonathan together. I could imagine so much so vividly. I felt a frustrated anger as I looked at her. I had to admit that I was jealous. What was the use of pretending that I did not care for him, that I wanted to forget? No. I wanted to remember. I wanted to dream about those days when I had forgotten my marriage vows, when I had behaved so wantonly and been so happy.

It was no use deceiving myself. Whatever he was, I wanted him. Did I love him? Who could truly define love? I loved David. I would have done a great deal not to hurt him. There were times when I hated myself for what I had done. But if feeling wildly excited, that the world was a delightful place and that I had so much to learn of many things which I wanted him to teach me… if that was love… then I loved Jonathan.

She had picked up the garnet brooch and held it against her peignoir.

“It’s very pretty,” she said. “So kind of you, Claudine.”

“It’s nothing. I’m glad you like it.”

“One can’t take all one’s things when travelling.”

“Of course not.”

“And we left in rather a hurry. That’s how it always seems with Jonathan.” She smiled indulgently.

“Yes, I supposed so. You look… very happy.”

“Oh, I am. I never dreamed…” She was smiling, looking back, I imagined… thinking of their being together.

“Well, that is how it should be,” I said, trying to speak in a cool matter-of-fact way.

“Some people think it was a marriage of convenience.”

“You mean… you and Jonathan?”

She nodded. “Well, the parents were rather pleased.”

“Yes, it was what they hoped for on both sides.”

“You would have thought… in the circumstances… But it was not at all like that.”

“It is good that you have found such happiness.”

“In a way,” she said, “it is a sort of challenge.”

“You mean marriage. I suppose it often is.”

“Not in the same way. You and David… Well, David is quite different from Jonathan, isn’t he? And twins are supposed to be so much alike. But they are opposites. No one could be less like Jonathan than David. What I mean is… you always know what David is going to do.”

I said rather formally: “One always knows that David will do what he considers to be right.”

“People have different ideas. Right to one might be wrong to another.”

“Oh come… there are certain standards.”

“I know what you mean. But David is predictable and I think that Jonathan must be the least predictable person on earth.”

“And you prefer unpredictability?”

She lifted a hairbrush and began brushing her hair, smiling secretly at her reflection in the mirror.

“Of course. It makes life an adventure… a challenge. You will be sure of David. I shall never be sure of Jonathan.”

“And you want… to be unsure?”

“I have no help for it. That is Jonathan’s way. David will always be the faithful husband.”

I could not resist saying: “And you think Jonathan will not be… and you find that challenging… adventurous?”

She turned to me and nodded slowly; her eyes glittered in the candlelight.

“He will have his little affaires de coeur. He always has and marriage will not stop him. I understand that. They will make him all the more ready to come back to me.”

I was astounded and I showed it. “I should have thought you were the last one to… er…”

“To be accommodating, to turn a blind eye to a husband’s misdemeanours?”

“Your mother…”

“Everyone compares me with my mother. I know I’m like her in a way. I am sure she never had to deal with the situation we are discussing. My father is a very moral gentleman.”

“Perhaps your mother would never allow him to be otherwise.”

I knew I ought to take my leave for I had a feeling that there was something dangerous about this conversation.

“My father and Jonathan are poles apart.”

“I am sure they are.”

“And my methods will be quite different from hers. No man of spirit would be so completely subdued as poor dear Papa is. I think he is fond of her in a way. He is a very gallant gentleman and I love him dearly.”

“It is always pleasant to hear of filial affection.”

“You are quite amusing, Claudine… sometimes so formal. I suppose that is the French in you. Oh yes, I shall know how to manage my life.”

“I am sure you will be very good at it.”

“So… I shall accept what has to be accepted. I shall countenance the little love affairs. It would only be if there was something greater—”

I felt my heart beginning to beat very fast. For a moment I wondered whether Jonathan had told her of his relationship with me. Surely he could not have done so. But who could say with Jonathan? Hadn’t she herself described him as unpredictable?

“If I thought I had a really serious rival, I could…” She hesitated and one of the candles spluttered and went out.

There was a brief silence which seemed eerie. I felt uncertain and had a great desire to escape from the room with its elaborate curtained bed, a desire to escape from the visions which kept coming into my mind.

“These candles!” she said. “They are always doing that. I shall complain that they do not make them properly now. Never mind. There is enough light.” She put her face close to the mirror and the reflection looked back at me. “What was I saying?” she went on. “If there was someone who was not a light o’ love… someone important to him, do you know, Claudine, I think I should hate her so much… that I would be tempted to kill her.”

I shivered.

She said: “It’s a little chilly in here. I’ll ring for the maid and ask her to build up the fire. Well, we are into autumn now.”

“I must go and get dressed.”

“Thank you for the brooch.”

I hurried out, thinking: Is it possible that she knows? Is she warning me? She had said: “I would be tempted to kill her.”

In that moment her reflection had looked wicked, ruthless.

Yes, I said to myself. I believe she would.

I was relieved when they left, although the days seemed empty and colourless.

I went over to see Aunt Sophie, who still mourned Alberic and talked of little else. She had been deeply shocked by Jessica’s disappearance and talked a good deal about that. Any disaster attracted her sometimes I felt that, when there was a happy ending, as in the case of Jessica, she lost interest. Although, of course, there was the question of who and why; and this could involve a great deal of unpleasant speculation.

Dolly Mather was with her as much as possible. I had been to Grasslands to call on Mrs. Trent once or twice. The first time I had been shocked by her appearance. She felt the death of Evie very much and she could not stop herself raging against the cruelty of fate and the wickedness of the one she spoke of as “the man.” I think if Harry Farringdon had put in an appearance she might well have tried to do him an injury, which was all very understandable, of course.

Then later when I called, Dolly told me that she was lying down. She was not well and felt too ill to receive visitors. She hardly ever went out. The servants at Grasslands reported to ours that she was getting “a little strange.”

There was gloom all round us and it all stemmed from Alberic’s death.