Also available in Large Print
by Agatha Christie:


The A.B.C. Murders

The Body in the Library

The Boomerang Clue

Crooked House

Evil Under the Sun

Miss Marple: The Complete Short Stories

A Murder is Announced

Peril at End House

The Secret Adversary

Three Blind Mice and Other Stories

The Witness for the Prosecution


TOHRRD5 ZERO


Boston/


1988


Copyright 1941, by Agatha Christie Limited.
Copyright renewed 1971, 1972 by Agatha Christie Limited.

All rights reserved.

Published in Large Print by arrangement with
Dodd, Mead & Co., Inc.

G.K. Hall Large Print Book Series.

Set in 18 pt Plantin.

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Christie, Agatha, 18901976.
Towards zero / Agatha Christie.
p. cm.---(G.K. Hall large print book series) ISBN 0-8161-4611-X (lg. print) ISBN 0-8161-4612-8 (pb)
1. Large type books. I. Title.
[PR6005.H66T65
	1988]

823'.912--dc19

8811926


Contents

Prologue

"Open the Door and Here Are the
People"

Snow White and Rose Red

A Fine Italian Hand...

Zero Hour

8 TO
170
289


Prologue


November 19th


The group round the fireplace was nearly
all composed of lawyers or those who had
an interest in the law. There was Martindale,
the solicitor; Rufus Lord, K.C.; young
Daniels, who had made a name for himself
in the Carstairs case; a sprinkling of other
barristers Mr. Justice Cleaver, Lewis of
Lewis and Trench and old Mr. Treves. Mr.
Treves was close on eighty, a very ripe and
experienced eighty. He was a member of
a famous firm of solicitors, and the most
famous member of that firm. He had settled
innumerable delicate cases out of court, he
was said to know more of backstairs history
than any man in England and he was a
specialist on criminology.

Unthinking people said Mr. Treves ought
to write his memoirs. Mr. Treves knew bet-ter.
He knew that he knew too much.

Thoueh he had lone retired from active


practice, there was no man in England whose
opinion was so respected by the members of
his own fraternity. Whenever his thin, pre-cise,
little voice was raised there was always
a respectful silence.

The conversation now was on the subject
of a much talked of case which had finished
that day at the Old Bailey. It was a murder
case and the prisoner had been acquitted.
The present company was busy trying the
case over again and making technical criti-cisms.

The prosecution had made a mistake in
relying on one of its witnesses old Depleach
ought to have realized what an opening he
was giving to the defense. Young Arthur
had made the most of that servant girl's
evidence. Bentmore, in his summing up, had
very rightly put the matter in its correct
perspective, but the mischief was done by
then the jury had believed the girl. Juries
were funny--you never knew what they'd
swallow and what they wouldn't but let
them once get a thing into their heads and
no one was ever going to get it out again.
They believed that the girl was speaking the
truth about the crowbar and that was that.
The medical evidence had been a bit above
their heads. All those lon terms and scien

tific jargon damned bad witnesses, these
scientific johnnies always hemmed and
hawed and couldn't say yes or no to a plain
question always "under certain circum-stances
that might take place" and so on!

They talked themselves out, little by lit-tle,
and as the remarks became more spas-modic
and disjointed, a general feeling grew
of something lacking. One head after another
turned in the direction of Mr. Treves. For
Mr. Treves had as yet contributed nothing
to the discussion. Gradually it became appar-ent
that the company were waiting for a final
word from their most respected colleague.

Mr. Treves, leaing back in his chair,
was absentmindedly polishing his glasses.
Something in the silence made him look up
sharply.

"Eh?" he said. "What was that? You asked
me something?"

Young Lewis spoke:

"We were talking, sir, about the Lamorne


case."


He paused expectantly.

"Yes, yes," said Mr. Treves. "I was think-ing
of that."

There was a respectful hush.

"But I'm afraid," said Mr. Treves, still
polishing, "that I was being fanciful. Yes,


fanciful. Result of getting on in years, I sup-pose.
At my age one can claim the privilege
of being fanciful, if one likes."

"Yes, indeed, sir," said young Lewis, but
he looked puzzled.

"I was thinking," said Mr. Treves, "not
so much of the various points of law raised
though they were interesting very interest-ing
if the verdict had gone the other way
there would have been good grounds for
appeal, I rather think but I won't go into
that now. I was thinking, as I say, not of the
points of law but of the well, of the people
in the case."

Everybody looked rather astonished. They
had considered the people in the case only
as regarded their credibility or otherwise as
witnesses. None of them had even hazarded
a speculation as to whether the prisoner had
been guilty or as innocent as the court had
pronounced him to be.

"Human beings, you know," said Mr.
Treves thoughtfully. "Human beings. All
kinds and sorts and sizes and shapes of 'em.
Some with brains and a good many more
without. They'd come from all over the place,
Lancashire, Scotland that restaurant pro-prietor
from Italy, and that schoolteacher
woman from somewhere out Middle West.


All caught up and enmeshed in the thing
and finally all brought together in a court
of law in London on a grey November day.
Each one contributing his little part. The
whole thing culminating in a trial for
murder."

He paused and gently beat a delicate tat-too
on his knee.

"I like a good detective story," he said.
"But, you know, they begin in the wrong
place! They begin with the murder. But the


murder is the end. The story begins long
before that years before sometimes with
all the causes and events that bring certain


people to a certain place at a certain time on
a certain day. Take that little maid servant's
evidence if the kitchenmaid hadn't pinched
her young man she wouldn't have thrown
up her situation in a huff and gone to the
Lamornes and been the principal witness for
the defense. That Giuseppe Antonelli com-ing
over to exchange with his brother for
a month. The brother is as blind as a bat.
He wouldn't have seen what Giuseppe's sharp
eyes saw. If the constable hadn't been sweet
on the cook at No. 48, he wouldn't have
been late on his beat... ."


He nodded his head gently.

"All converging towards a given slot.


And then, when the time comes over the
top! Zero hour. Yes, all of them converging
towards zero... ."

He repeated, "Towards zero... ."


Then he gave a quick little shudder.
"You're cold, sir, come nearer the fire."
"No, no," said Mr. Treves. "Just some-one
walking over my grave as they say. Well,
well, I must be making my way homewards."

He gave an affable little nod and went
slowly and precisdy out of the room.

There was a moment's dubious silence and
then Rufus Lord, K.C., remarked that poor
old Treves was getting on.

Sir William Cleaver said:

"An acute brain a very acute brain but
anno domini tells in the end."

"Got a groggy heart, too," said Lord.
"May drop down any minute I believe."

"He takes pretty good care of himself,"
said young Lewis.

At that moment Mr. Treves was carefully
stepping into his smooth-running Daimler.
It deposited him at a house in a quiet square.
A solicitous buffer valet helped him off with
his coat. Mr. Treves walked into his library
where a coal fire was burning. His bedroom
lay beyond, for out of consideration for his
heart he never went upstairs.


He sat down in front of the fire and drew
his letters towards him.

His mind was still dwelling on the fancy
he had outlined at the Club.

"Even now," thought Mr. Treves to him-self,
"some drama some murder to be is
in course of preparation. If I were writing
one of these amusing stories of blood and
crime, I should begin now with an elderly
gentleman sitting in front of the fire opening
his letters going, unbeknownst to himself
towards zero. . . ."

He slit open an envelope and gazed down
absently at the sheet he extracted from it.

Suddenly his expression changed. He came
back from romance to reality.

"Dear me," said Mr. Treves. "How ex-tremely
annoying! Really, how very vexing.
After all these years! This will alter all my
plans."


"Open the Door and

Here Are The People"


January l l th


The man in the hospital bed shifted his body
slightly and stifled a groan.

The nurse in charge of the ward got up
from her table and came down to him. She
shifted his pillows and moved him into a
more comfortable position.

Andrew MacWhirter only gave a grunt by
way of thanks.

He was in a state of seething rebellion and
bitterness.

By this time it ought all to have been over.
He ought to have been out of it all! Curse
that damned ridiculous tree growing out of
the cliff! Curse those officious sweethearts
who braved the cold of a winter's night to
keep a tryst on the cliff edge.

But for them (and the tree!) it would have
been over a plunge into the deep icy water,

h4sf etva,lo rrhnenci then oblivion


the end of a misused, useless, unprofitable
life.

And now where was he? Lying ridicu-lously
in a hospital bed with a broken shoul-der
and with the prospect of being hauled
up in a police court for the crime of trying
to take his own life.

Curse it, it was his own life, wasn't it?
And if he had succeeded in the job, they
would have buried him piously as of un-sound
mind!

Unsound mind, indeed! He'd never been
saner! And to commit suicide was the most
logical and sensible thing that could be done
by a man in his position.

Completely down and out, with his health
permanently affected, with a wife who had
left him for another man. Without a job,
without affection, without money, health or
hope, surely to end it all was the only possi-ble
solution?

And now here he was in this ridiculous
plight. He would shortly be admonished by
a sanctimonious magistrate for doing the
common sense thing with a commodity which
belonged to him and to him only his life.

He snorted with anger. A wave of fever
passed over him.

The nurse was beside him aain.


She was young, red-haired, with a kindly,
rather vacant face·

"Are you in much pain?"

"No, I'm not."

"I'll give you something to make you
sleep."

"You'll do nothing of the sort."

"But "

"Do you think I can't bear a bit of pain
and sleeplessness?"

She smiled in a gentle, slightly superior
way.

"Doctor said you could have something."
"I don't care what doctor said."

She straightened the covers and set a glass
of lemonade a little nearer to him. He said,
slightly ashamed of himself, "Sorry if I was

rude·"

"Oh, that's all right."

It annoyed him that she was so completely
undisturbed by his bad temper· Nothing like
that could penetrate her nurse's armor of
indulgent indifference. He was a patient

not a man.

He said:

"Damned interference all this damned


interference
	"


She said reprovingly, "Now, now, that

isn't very nice."


"Nice?" he demanded. "Nice? My God."
She said calmly, "You'll feel better in the
morning."
He swallowed.
"You nurses. You nurses.t You're inhuman,
that's what you are!"
"We know what's best for you, you see."
"That's what's so infuriating! About you.
About a hospital. About the world. Continual
interference! Knowing what's best for
other people. I tried to kill myself. You know
that, don't you?"
She nodded.
"Nobody's business but mine whether I
threw myself off a bloody cliff or not. I'd
finished with life. I was down and out!"
She made a little clicking noise with her
tongue. It indicated abstract sympathy. He
was a patient. She was soothing him by letting
him blow off steam.
"Why shouldn't I kill myself if I want
to?" he demanded.
She replied to that quite seriously.
"Because it's wrong."
"Why is it wrong?"
She looked at him doubtfully. She was not
disturbed in her own belief, but she was
much too inarticulate to explain her reaction.
"Well I mean it's wicked to kill your
self. You've got to go on living whether you
like it or not.

"Why have you?"

"Well, there are other people to consider,
aren't there?"

"Not in my case. There's not a soul in the
world who'd be the worse for my passing

on.

"Haven't you got any relations? No mother
or sister or anything?"

"No.' I had a wife once but she left me

quite right too! She saw I was no good."
"But you've got friends, surely?"

"No, I haven't. I'm not a friendly sort
of man. Look here, nurse, I'll tell you some-thing.
I was a happy sort of chap once. Had
a good job and a good-looking wife. There
was a car accident. My boss was driving the
car and I was in it. He wanted me to say
he was driving under thirty at the time of
the accident. He wasn't. He was driving
nearer fifty. Nobody was killed, nothing like
that, he just wanted to be in the right for the
insurance people. Well, I wouldn't say what
he wanted. It was a lie. I don't tell lies."

The nurse said, "Well, I think you were
quite right. Quite right."


."You do, do you? That pigheadedness of

mine cost me my .job. My boss was sore. He


saw to it that I didn't get another. My wife
got fed up seeing me mooch about unable to
get anything to do. She went off with a man
who had been my friend. He was doing well
and going up in the world. I drifted along
going steadily down. I took to drinking a
bit. That didn't help me to hold down jobs.
Finally I came down to hauling strained
my inside the doctor told me I'd never be
strong again. Well, there wasn't much to live
for then. Easiest way, and the cleanest way,
was to go right out. My life was no good to
myself or anyone else."

The little nurse murmured, "You don't
know that."

He laughed. He was better tempered al-ready.
Her naive obstinacy amused him.

"My dear girl, what use am I to anybody?"

She said confusedly, "You don't know.
You may be someday "

"Someday? There won't be any someday.
Next time I shall make sure."

She shook her head decidedly.

"Oh, no," she said. "You won't kill your-self
now."

"Why not?"

"They never do."

He stared at her. "They never do." He was
one of a class of would-be suicides. Ocenine


his mouth to protest energetically, his innate
honesty suddenly stopped him.

Wou/d he do it again? Did he really mean
to do it?

He knew suddenly that he didn't. For no
reason. Perhaps the fight reason was the one
she had given out of her specialized knowl-edge.
Suicides didn't do it again.

All the more .he felt determined to force
an admission from her on the ethical side.

"At any rate I've got a right to do what
I like with my own life."

"No no, you haven't."

"But why not, my dear girl, why?"

She flushed. She said, her fingers playing
with the little gold cross that hung round her
neck:

"You don't understand. God may need
you.

He stared taken aback. He did not want
to upset her childlike faith. He said mock-ingly:

"I suppose that one day I may stop a run-away
horse and save a golden-haired child
from death eh? Is that it?"

She shook her head. She said with vehe-mence
and trying to express what was so
vivid in her mind and so halting on her
tonmle:


"It may be just by being somewhere not
doing anything--just by being at a certain
place at a certain time oh, I can't say what
I mean, but you might just just walk along
a street someday and just by doing that accomplish
something terribly important perhaps
without even knowing what it was."
The red-haired little nurse came from the
west coast of Scotland and some of her family
had "the sight."
Perhaps, dimly, she saw a picture of a
man walking up a road on a night in September
and thereby saving a human being
from a terrible death ....

February 14th

There was only one person in the room and
the only sound to be heard was the scratching
of that person's pen as it traced line after
line across the paper.
There was no one to read the words that
were being traced. If there had been, they
would hardly have believed their eyes. For
what was being written was a clear, carefully
detailed project for murder.
There are times when a body is conscious of a mind controlline it when it bows obe
dient to that alien something that controls its
actions. There are other times when a mind
is conscious of owning and controlling a body
and accomplishing its purpose by using that
body.

The figure sitting writing was in the last
named state. It was a mind, a cool controlled
intelligence. This mind had only one thought
and one purpose the destruction of another
human being. To the end that his purpose
might be accomplished, the scheme was be-ing
worked out meticulously on paper. Every
eventuality, every possibility was being taken
into account. The thing had got to be ab-solutely
foolproof. The scheme, like all good
schemes, was not absolutdy cut and dried.
There were certain alternative actions at
certain points. Moreover, since the mind was
intelligent, it realized that there must be
intelligent provision left for the unforeseen.
But the main lines were clear and had been
the place, the


closely tested. The time,
method, the victim! . . .

The figure raised its head.


With its hand,
it picked up the sheets of paper and read
them carefully through. Yes, the thing was
crystal clear.

Acrnss the seHnlm face a smile came. It


was a smile that was not quite sane. The
figure drew a deep breath.
As man was made in the image of his

maker, so there was now a terrible travesty
of a creator's joy.
Yes, everything planned everyone's reaction
foretold and allowed for, the good and
evil in everybody played upon and brought

into harmony with one evil design.
There was one thing lacking still ....
With a smile the writer traced a date
date in September.

a

Then, with a laugh, the paper was torn in
pieces and the pieces carried across the room
and put into the heart of the glowing fire.
There was no carelessness. Every single piece
was consumed and destroyed. The plan was
now only existent in the brain of its creator.

March 8th

Superintendent Battle was sitting at the
breakfast table. His jaw was set in a truculent
fashion and he was reading slowly and
carefully a letter that his wife had just tearfully
handed to him. There was no expression
visible on his face, for his face never did
reeister any extression. It had the astect of


a face carved out of wood. It was solid and
durable and, in some way, impressive. Su-perintendent
Battle had never suggested bril-liance;
he was, definitely, not a brilliant man,
but he had some other quality, difficult to
define, that was nevertheless forceful.

"I can't believe it," said Mrs. Battle, sob-bing.
"Sylvia!"

Sylvia was the youngest of Superintendent
and Mrs. Battle's five children. She was six-teen
and at school near Maidstone.

The letter was from Miss Amphrey, head-mistress
of the school in question. It was a
clear, kindly and extremely tactful letter. It
set out, in black and white, that various
small thefts had been puzzling the school
authorities for some time, that the matter
had been at last cleared up, that Sylvia Battle
had confessed and that Miss Amphrey would
like to see Mr. and Mrs. Battle at the earliest
possible oppornmity "to discuss the posi-tion.''

Superintendent Battle folded up the let-ter,
put it in his pocket, and said, "You
leave this to me, Mary."

He got up, walked round the table, patted
her on the cheek and said, "Don't worry,

clear it urill ky nil rirht."


He went from the room leaving comfort
and reassurance behind him.

That afternoon, in Miss Amphrey's mod-em
and individualistic drawing room, Super-intendent
Battle sat very squarely on his
chair, his large wooden hands on his knees,
confronting Miss Amphrey and managing to
look, far more than usual, every inch a po-liceman.

Miss Amphrey was a very successful head-mistress.
She had personalityma great deal
of personality, she was enlightened and up to
date, and she combined discipline with mod-em
ideas of self-determination.

Her room was representative of the spirit
of Meadway. Everything was of a cool oat-meal
color there were big jars of daffodils
and bowls of tulips and hyacinths. One or
two good copies of the antique Greek, two
pieces of advanced modern sculpture, two
Italian primitives on the walls. In the midst
of all this, Miss Amphrey herself, dressed
in a deep shade of blue, with an eager face
suggestive of a conscientious greyhound, and
clear blue eyes looking serious through thick
lenses.

"The important thing," she was saying in
her clear, well-modulated voice, "is that this
should be taken the right way. It is the rl


herself we have to think of, Mr. Battle. Sylvia


herself! It is more important most impor-tant
that her life should not be crippled in
any way. She must not be made to assume
a burden of guilt blame must be very very
sparingly meted out, if at all. We must arrive
at the reason behind these quite trivial
pilferings. A sense of inferiority, perhaps?
She is not good at games, you know an
obscure wish to shine in a different sphere

the desire to assert her ego? We must be
very very careful. That is why I wanted to
see you alone first to impress upon you
to be very, very careful with Sylvia. I repeat
again, it's very important to get at what is
behind this."

"That, M/ss Amphrey," said Superinten-dent
Battle, "is why I have come down."

His voice was quiet, his face unemotional,
his eyes surveyed the schoolmistress apprais-ingly.

"I have been very gentle with her," said
Miss Amphrey.
Battle said laconically, "Good of you,


"You see, I really love and understand
these young things."

Baffle did not ret>lv directlv. He said. "I'd


like to see my girl now, if you don't mind,
Miss Amphrey."

With renewed emphasis Miss Amphrey
admonished him to be careful to go slow
not to antagonize a child just budding into
womanhood.

Superintendent Battle showed no signs of
impatience. He just looked blank.

She took him at last to her study. They
passed one or two girls in the passages. They
stood politely to attention but their eyes were
full of curiosity. Having ushered Battle into
a small room not quite so redolent of per-sonality
as the one downstairs, Miss Amphrey
withdrew and said she would send Sylvia to
him.

Just as she was leaving the room, Battle
stopped her.

"One minute, m'am, how did you come to
pitch upon Sylvia as the one responsible for
these er leakages?"

"My methods, Mr. Battle, were psycho-logical."

Miss Amphrey spoke with dignity.

"Psychological? H'm. What about the evi-dence,
Miss Amphrey?"

"Yes, yes, I quite understand, Mr. Battle

you would feel that way. Your er pro-fession
stevs in. But tsvcholov is bermin


to be recognized in criminology. I can assure
you that there is no mistake Sylvia freely

admits the whole thing."

Battle nodded.

"Yes, yes I know that. I was just asking
how you came to pitch upon her to begin


"Well, Mr. Battle, this business of things
being taken out of the girls' lockers was on
the increase. I called the school together and
told them the facts. At the same time, I
studied their faces unobtrusively. Sylvia's
expression struck me at once. It was guilty

confused. I knew at that moment who was
responsible. I wanted, not to confront her
with her guilt, but to get her to admit it
herself. I set a little test for her a word
association test."

Battle nodded to show he understood.
"And finally the child admitted it all!"
Her father said, "I see."

Miss Amphrey hesitated a minute, then
went out.

Battle was standing looking out of the
window when the door opened again.

He turned round slowly and looked at his
daughter.

Sylvia stood just inside the door which she
had closed behind her. She was tall, dark,


angular. Her face was sullen and bore marks
of tears. She said timidly rather than deft-anfiy:

"Well, here I am."

Battle looked at her thoughtfully for a
minute or two. He sighed.

"I should never have sent you to this
place," he said. "That woman's a fool."

Sylvia lost sight of her own problem in
sheer amazement.

"Miss Amphrey? Oh, but she's wonderful!
We all think so."

"H'm," said Battle. "Can't be quite a fool,
then, if she sells the idea of herself as well
as that. All the same, this wasn't the place
for you although I don't know this might
have happened anywhere."

Sylvia twisted her hands together. She
looked down. She said,

"I'm I'm sorry, Father. I really am."

"So you should be," said Battle shortly.
"Come here."

She came slowly and unwillingly across
the room to him. He took her chin in his
great square hand and looked closely into her
face.

"Been through a great deal, haven't you?"
he said gently.

Tears started into her eyes.


Battle said slowing:

"You see, Sylv{a, I've known all along
with you, that there was something. Most
people have got a weakness of some kind or
another. Usually it's plain enough. You can
see when a child's greedy, or bad tempered,
or got a streak of the bully in him. You were


a good child, very quiet very sweet tem-pered
no troubl% in any way and some-times
I've worrie. Because if there's a flaw
you don't see, sorvaetimes it wrecks the whole

show when the arkicle is tried out."

"Like me!" saiq Sylvia.

"Yes, like yota. You've cracked under
strain and in a amned queer way too. It's
a way, oddly enouagh, I've never come across
before."

The girl said Sthddenly and scornfully:

"I should thintk you'd come across thieves
often enough!"

"Oh, yes I laow all about them. And
that's why, my C!llear--not because I'm your
father (fathers do:,n,t know much about their
children) but beccause I'm a policeman that
I know well enohagh you're not a thief! You
never took a thin.ag in this place. Thieves are
of two kinds, thee kind that yields to sudden
and overwhelminlag temptation (and that hap-rens
damned s,lcirn--it's amazing hat


temptation the ordinary normal honest hu-man
being can withstand), and there's the
kind that just takes what doesn't belong
to them almost as a matter of course. You
don't belong to either

a thief. You're a very


Sylvia began: "But "

He swept on.

"You've admitted it all? Oh, yes, I know
that. There was a saint once went out with
bread for the poor. Husband didn't like it.
Met her and asked what there was in her
basket. She lost her nerve and said it was
roses He tore open her basket and roses it
was a miracle! Now if you'd been Saint
Elizabeth and were out with a basket of roses,
and your husband had come along and asked
you what you'd got, you'd have lost your
nerve and said 'Bread.'"

He paused and then said gently, "That's
how it happened, isn't it?"

There was a longer pause and then the girl

suddenly bent her head.

Battle said:

"Tell me, child. What happened exactly?"

"She had us all up. Made a speech. And
I saw her eyes on me and I knew she thought

it was me! I felt myself getting red and I


type. You're not
unusual type of


saw some of the girls looking at me. It was
awful. And then the others began looking
at me and whispering in corners. I could see
they all thought so. And then the Amp had
me up here with some of the others one
evening and we played a sort of word game
she said words and we gave answers "
Battle gave a disgusted grunt.
"And I could see what it meant and
and I sort of got paralyzed. I tried not to
give the wrong word I tried to think of
things quite outside like squirrels or flow-ers-and
the Amp was there watching me
with eyes like gimlets you know, sort of
boring inside one. And after that oh, it got
worse and worse and one day the Amp talked
to me quite kindly and so so understandingly and and I broke down and said I
had done it and oh! Daddy, the relief!"
Battle was stroking his chin.
"I see."
"You do understand?"
"No, Sylvia, I don't understand, because
I'm not made that way. If anyone tried to
make me say I'd done something I hadn't I'd
feel more like giving them a sock on the jaw.
But I see how it came about in your case
and that gimlet-eyed Amp of yours has had
as pret an example of unusual psychology


shoved under her nose as any half baked
exponent of misunderstood theories could


ask for. The thing to do now is to clear up
this mess. Where's Miss Amphrey?"

Miss Amphrey was hovering tactfully near
at hand. Her sympathetic smile froze on her
face as Superintendent Battle said bluntly:

"In justice to my daughter, I must ask

that you call in your local police over this."
"But, Mr. Battle, Sylvia herself"

"Sylvia has never touched a thing that
didn't belong to her in this place."

"I quite understand that, as a father "
"I'm not talking as a father, but as a
policeman. Get the police to give you a hand
over this. They'll be discreet. You'll find the
things hidden away somewhere and the right
set of fingerprints on them, I expect. Petty
pilferers don't think of wearing gloves. I'm
taking my daughter away with me now. If
the police find evidence real evidence to
connect her with the thefts, I'm prepared for
her to appear in court and take what's com-ing
to her, but I'm not afraid."

As he drove out of the gate with Sylvia
beside him some five minutes later, he asked,
"Who's the girl with fair hair, rather fuzzy,
very rink cheeks and a sot on her chin,


blue eyes far apart? I passed her in the


passage.

"That sounds like Olive Parsons."

"Ah, well, I shouldn't be surprised if she
were the one."

"Did she look frightened?"

"No, looked smug! Calm smug look I've
seen in the police court hundreds of times!
I'd bet good money she's the thief but you
won't find her confessing not much!"

Svlvia said with a sigh, "It's like coming
out of a bad dream. Oh, Daddy, I am sorry!
Oh, I am sorry! How could I be such a
fool, such an utter fool? I do feel awful about
it."

"Ah, well," said Superintendent Battle,
patting her on the arm with a hand he dis-engaged
from the wheel, and uttering one of
his pet forms of trite consolation, "don't you
worry. These things are sent to try us. Yes,
these things are sent to try us. At least, I
suppose so. I don't see what else they can be
sent for .... "


April 19th


The sun was pouring down on Nevile
Strange's house at Hindhead.


It was an April day such as usually occurs
at least once in the month, hotter than most
of the June days to follow.

Nevile Strange was coming down the stairs.
He was dressed in white flannels and held
four tennis rackets under his arm.

If a man could have been selected from
amongst other Englishmen as an example
of a lucky man with nothing to wish for,
a Selection Committee might have chosen
Nevile Strange. He was a man well known to
the British public, a first-class tennis player
and all-round sportsman. Though he had
never reached the finals at Wimbledon, he
had lasted several of the opening rotmds and
in the mixed doubles had twice reached the
semi-finals. He was, perhaps, too much of
an all-round athlete to be a champion tennis
player. He was scratch at golf, a fine swim-mer
and had done some good climbs in the
Alps. He was thirty-three, had magnificent
health, good looks, plenty of money, an ex-tremely
beautiful wife whom he had recently
married and, to all appearances, no cares or
worries.

Nevertheless as Nevile Strange went
downstairs this f'me morning a shadow went
with him. A shadow perceptible, perhaps, to
no eves but his. But he was aware of it. the


thought of it furrowed his brow and made
his expression troubled and indedsive.

He crossed the hall, squared his shoulders
as though definitely throwing off some bur-den,
passed through the living room and out
onto a glass verandah where his wife, Kay,
was curled up amongst cushions drinking
orange juice.

Kay Strange was twenty-three and unusu-ally
beautiful. She had a slender but subtly
voluptuous figure, dark red hair, such a per-fect
skin that she used only the slightest of
make-up to enhance it, and those dark eyes
and brows which so seldom go with red hair

and which are so devastating when they do.
Her husband said lightly:

"Hullo, gorgeous, what's for breakfast?"
Kay replied:

"Horribly bloody-looking kidneys for you
and mushrooms and rolls of bacon."
"Sounds all right," said Nevile.

He helped himself to the aforementioned
viands and poured out a cup of coffee. There
was a companionable silence for some min-utes.

"Oo," said Kay, voluptuously wriggling
bare toes with scarlet manicured nails. "Isn't
the sun lovely? England's not so bad after

11"


r

They had just come back from the south
of France.
Nevile, after a bare glance at the newspaper
headlines, had turned to the sports
page and merely said "Um..."
Then, proceeding to toast and marmalade,
he put the paper aside and opened his letters.
There were a good many of these but
most of them he tore across and chucked
away. Circulars, advertisements, printed matter.


Kay said:
"I don't like my color scheme in the living
room. Can I have it done over, Nevile?"
"Anything you like, beautiful."
"Peacock blue," said Kay dreamily. "And
ivory satin cushions."
"You'll have to throw in an ape," said
Nevile.
"You can be the ape," said Kay.
Nevile opened another letter.
"Oh, by the way," said Kay. "Shirty has
asked us to go to Norway on the yacht at the
end of June. Rather sickening we can't."
She looked cautiously sideways at Nevile
and added wistfully: "I would love it so."
Something, some cloud, some uncertainty,
· ,., .... ..! L ...... *--


Kay said rebelliously:

"Have we got to go to dreary old Ca-milla's?''

Nevile frowned.

"Of course we have. Look here, Kay,
we've had this out before. Sir Matthew was
my guardian. He and Camilla looked after
me. Gull's Point is my home, as far as any
place is home to me."

"Oh, all right, all right," said Kay. "If
we must, we must. After all we get all that
money when she dies, so I suppose we have
to suck up a bit."

Nevile said angrily:

"It's not a question of sucking up! She's
no control over the money. Sir Matthew left
it in trust for her during her lifetime and
to come to me and my wife afterwards. It's
a question of affection. Why can't you under-stand
that?"

Kay said, after a moment's pause:

"I do understand really. I'm just putting
on an act because well, because I know I'm
only allowed there on sufferance as it were.
They hate me! Yes, they do! Lady Tressilian
looks down that long nose of hers at me and
Mary Aldin looks over my shoulder when
she talks to me. It's all very well for you.
You don't see what eoes on."


"They always seem to me very polite to
you. You know quite well I wouldn't stand
for it if they weren't."

Kay gave him a curious look from under
her dark lashes.

"They're polite enough. But they know
how to get under my skin all right. I'm the
interloper, that's what they feel."

"Well," said Nevile, "after all, I suppose
that's natural enough, isn't it?"

His voice had changed slightly. He got
up and stood looking out at the view with
his back to Kay.

"Oh, yes, I daresay it's natural. They were
devoted to Audrey, weren't they?" Her voice
shook a little. "Dear, well-bred, cool, color-less
Audrey! Camilla's not forgiven me for
taking her place."

Nevile did not turn. His voice was life-less,
dull. He said: "After all, Camilla's old
past seventy. Her generation doesn't really
like divorce, you know. On the whole I think
she's accepted the position very well consid-ering
how fond she was of of Audrey."

His voice changed just a little as he spoke
the name.

"They think you treated her badly."

"So I did," said Nevile under his breath,
but his wife heard.


"Oh, Nevile don't be so stupid. Just
because she chose to make such a frightful


fUSS."

"She didn't make a fuss.
made fusses."

"Well, you know what I


Audrey never


mean. Because
she went away and was ill, and went about
everywhere looking brokenhearted. That's
what I call a fuss! Audrey's not what I call a
good loser. From my point of view if a wife
can't hold her husband she ought to give
him up gracefully! You two had nothing in
common. She never played a game and was
as anemic and washed up as as a dish rag.
No life or go in her! If she really cared about
you, she ought to have thought about your
happiness first and been glad you were going
to be happy with someone more suited to
you."

Nevile turned. A faintly sardonic smile
played round his lips.

"What a little sportsman! How to play the

game in love and matrimony!"

Kay laughed and reddened.

"Well, perhaps I was going a bit far. But
at any rate once the thing had happened,
there it was. You've got to accept these
things!"

Nevile said auietlv. "Audrev accepted it.


She divorced me so that you and I could
marry.
"Yes, I know "Kay hesitated.
Nevile said:
"You've never understood Audrey."
"No, I haven't. In a way, Audrey gives
me the creeps· I don't know what it is about
her. You never know what she's thinking.
·.. She's she's a LITTLE frightening."
"Oh! nonsense, Kay."
"Well, she frightens me. Perhaps it's because
she's got brains."
"My lovely nitwit!"
i;Kay laughed·
""You always call me that!"
"Because it's what you are!"
They smiled at each other. Nevile came
over to her and, bending down, kissed the
back of her neck.
"Lovely, lovely Kay," he murmured.
"Very good Kay," said Kay. "Giving up a
lovely yachting trip to go and be snubbed by
her husband's prim Victorian relations·"
Nevile went back and sat down by the
tble.
"You know," he said, "I don't see why we shouldn't go on that trip with Shirty if

y.really want to so uch." lay sat up m astomshment.


"And what about Saltcreek and Gull's
Point?"
Nevile said in a rather unnatural voice:
"I don't see why we shouldn't go there
early in September."
"Oh, but, Nevile, surely "She stopped.
"We can't go in July and August because
of the Tournaments," said Nevile. "But we
finish up at St. Lo the last week in August
and it would fit in very well if we went on to
Saltcreek from there."
"Oh, it would fit in all right beautifially.
But I thought well, she always goes there
for September, doesn't she?"
"Audrey, you mean?"
"Yes, I suppose they could put her off,
but "
"Why should they put her off?."
Kay stared at him dubiously.
"You mean, we'd be there at the same
time? What an extraordinary idea."
Nevile said irritably:
"I don't think it's at all an extraordinary
idea. Lots of people do it nowadays. Why
shouldn't we all be friends together? It makes
things so much simpler. Why, you said so
yourself only the other day."
"I did?"
"Yes. don't you remember? We were


talking about the Howes, and you said it was
the sensible civilized way to look at things,
and that Leonard's new wife and his Ex
were the best of friends."

"Oh, I wouldn't mind, I do think it's
sensible. But well I don't think Audrey

would feel like that about it."

"Nonsense."

"It isn't nonsense. You know, Nevile,

Audrey really was terribly fond of you 	I

don't
think she'd stand it for a moment."
"You're
quite wrong, Kay. Audrey thinks it
would be quite a good thing."
"Audrey
what do you mean, Audrey thinks?
How do you know what Audrey thinks?"

Nevile
looked slightly embarrassed. He cleared
his throat a little self-consciously.
"As
a matter of fact, I happened to run into
her yesterday when I was up in London."

"You
never told me."
Nevile
said irritably:
"I'm
telling you now. It was absolute chance.
I was walking across the Park and there
she was coming towards me. You wouldn't
want me to nm away from her, would
you?"

"No, of course not," said Kay, stating.

"I we well, we stopped, of course, and
then I t.urned round and walked with her.
I I felt t was the least I could do."

"Go on," said Kay.
"And then we sat down on a couple of
chairs and talked. She was very nice very
nice indeed."
"Delightful for you," said Kay.
"And we got talking, you know, about
one thing and another .... She was quite
natural and normal and and all that."
"Remarkable!" said Kay.

"And she asked how you were "
"Very kind of her!"
"And we talked about you for a bit.
Really, Kay, she couldn't have been nicer."
"Darling Audrey!"
"And then it sort of came to me you
know how nice it would be if if you two
could be friends if we could all get together.
And it occurred to me that perhaps
we might manage it at Gull's Point this summer.
Sort of place it could happen quite
naturally."
"You thought of that?"
"I well yes, of course. It was all my idea"


"You've never said anything to me about
having any such idea."

"Well, I only happened to think of it just
then."

"I see. Anyway, you suggested it and
Audrey thought it was a marvelous brain
wave?"

For the first time, something in Kay's
manner seemed to penetrate to Nevile's con-sciousness.

	He said:

	"Is anything the matter, gorgeous?"

"Oh, no, nothing! Nothing at all! It didn't
occur to you or Audrey whether I should

think it a marvelous idea?"

	Nevile stared at her.

"But, Kay, why on earth should you
mind.>"

	Kay bit her lip.

	Nevile went on:

	"You
	said yourself only the other

day "

"Oh, don't go into all that again! I was
talking about other people not us."

	"But that's partly what made me think of


"More fool me. Not that I believe that."
Nevile was lookine at her with dismay.


"But, Kay, why should you mind? I mean,

there's nothing for you to mind about!"
"Isn't there?"

"Well, I mean any jealousy or that
would be on the other side." He paused,
his voice changed. "You see, Kay, you and I
treated Audrey damned badly. No, I don't
mean that. It was nothing to do with you. I
treated her very badly. It's no good just say-lng
I couldn't help myself. I feel that if this
could come off I'd feel better about the whole

thing. It would make me a lot happier."
Kay said slowly:

"So you haven't been happy?"

"Darling idiot, what do you mean? Of
course I've beech happy, radiantly happy.
But "

Kay cut in.

"But that's it! There's always been a but
in this house. Some damned creeping shadow

about the place. Audrey's shadow."

Nevile stared at her.

"You mean to say you're jealous of
Audrey?" he said.

"I'm not jealous of her. I'm afraid of her.
. . . Nevile, you don't know what Audrey's
like."

"Not know what she's like when I've been
married to her for over eight years?"


"You don't know," Kay repeated, "what
Audrey is like."

"Preposterous!" said Lady Tressilian. She
drew herself up on her pillow and glared
fiercely round the room. "Absolutely preposterous!
Nevile must be mad."
"It does seem rather odd," said Mary

Lady Tressilian had a striking-looking pro£fie
with a slender bridged nose down which,
when so inclined, she could look with telling
effect. Though she was now over seventy
and in frail health, her native vigor of mind
was in no way impaired. She had, it is true,
long periods of retreat from life and its emotions
when she would lie with half-closed
eyes, but from these semicomas she would
emerge with all her faculties sharpened to
the uttermost, and with an incisive tongue.
Propped up by pillows in a large bed set
across one corner of her room, she held her
court like some French Queen. Mary Aldin,

a distant cousin, lived with her. The two
women got on together excellently. Mary was

thirty-six, but had one of those smooth age
less faces that change little wir. h lassing years.
She might have been thirty o' fo0rty-five. She
had a good figure, an air o breeding, and
dark hair to which one lock of'white across
the front gave a touch of inditifiduality. It
was at one time a fashion, btt/iary's white
lock of hair was natural and sheie had had it
since her girlhood.

She looked down now reflectiwvely at Nevile
Strange's letter which Lady Tfressilim had
handed to her.

"Yes," she said. "It does seem t rather odd."
"You can't tell me," said Lad;ly Tressilian,
"that this is Nevile's own idea! Somebody's
put it into his head. Probably ti%at near wife
of his."

"Kay. You think it was Kay's idea?"

"It would be quite like he:r. New and
vulgar! If husbands and wives have to ad-vertise
their difficulties in pubBlic and have
recourse to divorce, then they rrmght at least
part decently. The new wife and I the old wife
making friends is quite disgu,.sting to my
mind. Nobody has any standards aowadays!"

"I suppose it is just the medem way,"
said Mary.

"It won't happen in my hous%e," said Lady
Tressilian. "I consider I've done a all that could


be asked of me having that scarlet-toed creature
here at all."
"She is Nevile's wife."
"Exactly. Therefore I felt that Matthew
would have wished it. He was devoted to the
boy and always wanted him to look on this
as his home. Since to refuse to receive his
wife would have made an open breach, I
gave way and asked her here. I do not like
her she's quite the wrong wife for Nevile
no background, no roots!"
"She's quite well born," said Mary placatingly.
"Bad stock!" said Lady Tressilian. "Her
father, as I've told you, had to resign from
all his clubs after the card business. Luckily
he died shortly after. And her mother was
notorious on the Riviera. What a bringing
up for the girl. Nothing but hotel life and
that mother! Then she meets Nevile on the
tennis courts, makes a dead set at him and
never rests until she gets him to leave his
wife of whom he was extremely fond and
go off with her! I blame her entirely for the
whole thing!"
Mary smiled faintly. Lady Tressilian had
the old-fashioned characteristic of always
blaming the woman and being indulgent towards
the man in the case.


less faces that change little with passing years.
She might have been thirty or forty-five. She
had a good figure, an air of breeding, and
dark hair to which one lock of white across
the front gave a touch of individuality. It
was at one time a fashion, but Mary's white
lock of hair was natural and she had had it
since her girlhood.
She looked down now reflectively at Nevile
Strange's letter which Lady Tressi!ian, had
handed to her.
"Yes," she said. "It does seem rather odd."
"You can't tell me," said Lady Tressilian,
"that this is Nevile's own idea! Somebody's
put it into his head. Probably that new wife
of his."
"Kay. You think it was Kay's idea?"
"It would be quite like her. New and
vulgar! If husbands and wives have to advertise
their difficulties in public and have
recourse to divorce, then they might at least
part decently. The new wife and the old wife
making friends is quite disgusting to my
	mind. Nobody has any standards nowadays?

	"I suppose it is just the modem, way,"

	said Mary.

	"It won't happen in my house," smd Lady
	n-. 	:
:-- ,,T ...-..,o;,-I,
. T'x, clr n all
that
could

be asked of me having that scarlet-toed creature
here at all."
"She is Nevile's wife."
"Exactly. Therefore I felt that Matthew
would have wished it. He was devoted to the
boy and always wanted him to look on this
as his home. Since to refuse to receive his
wife would have made an open breach, I
gave way and asked her here. I do not like her she's quite the wrong wife for Nevile
no background, no roots!"
"She's quite well born," said Mary placatingly.

"Bad stock!" said Lady Tressilian. "Her
father, as I've told you, had to resign from
all his clubs after the card business. Luckily
he died shortly after. And her mother was
notorious on the Riviera. What a bringing
up for the girl. Nothing but hotel life and
that mother! Then she meets Nevile on the
tennis courts, makes a dead set at him and
never rests until she gets him to leave his
wife of whom he was extremely fond and
go off with her! I blame her entirely for the
whole thing!"
Mary smiled faintly. Lady Tressilian had
the old-fashioned characteristic of always
blaming the woman and being indulgent towards
the man in the case.


"I suppose, strictly speaking, Nevile was
equally to blame," she suggested.
"Nevile was very much to blame," agreed
Lady Tressilian. "He had a channing wife
who had always been devoted perhaps too
devoted to him. Nevertheless, if it hadn't
been for that girl's persistence, I am convinced
he would have come to his senses.
But she was determined to marry him! Yes,
my sympathies are entirely with Audrey. I
am very fond of Audrey."
Mary sighed.
"It has all been very difficult," she said.
"Yes, indeed. One is at a loss to know
how to act in such difficult circumstances.
Matthew was fond of Audrey, and so am I,
and one cannot deny that she was a very
good wife to Nevile though perhaps it is a
pity that she could not have shared his
amusements more. She was never an athletic
girl. The whole business was very distressing.
When I was a girl, these things simply
did not happen. Men had their affairs, naturally,
but they were not allowed to break up
married life."
"Well, they happen now," said Mary
bluntly.
"Exactly. You have so much common
sense, dear. It is of no use recalling bygone


days. These things happen, and girls like
Kay Mortimer steal other women's husbands

and nobody thinks the worse of them!"
"Except people like you, Camilla!"

"I don't count. That Kay creature doesn't
worry whether I approve of her or not. She's
too busy having a good time. Nevile can
bring her here when he comes and I'm even
willing to receive her friends though I do
not much care for that very theatrical-looking
young man who is always hanging round

her what is his name?"

"Ted Latimer?"

"That is it. A friend of her Riviera days
and I should very much like to know how he
manages to live as he does."

"By his wits," suggested Mary.

"One might pardon that. I rather fancy
he lives by his looks. Not a pleasant friend
for Nevile's wife! I disliked the way he came
down last summer and stayed at the Easter-head
Bay Hotel while they were here."

Mary looked out of the open windoW. Lady
Tressilian's house was situated on a steep
cliff overhanging the river Tern. On the other
side of the river was the newly created sum-mer
resort of Easterhead Bay, consisting of a
big sandy bathing beach, a cluster of modern
bunealows and a laree hotel on the headland


looking out to sea. Saltcreek itself was a
straggling pictttresque fishing village set on
the side of a hill. It was old-fashioned, con-servafive
and deeply contemptuous of Easter-head
Bay and its summer visitors.

The Easterhead Bay Hotd was nearly ex-actly
opposite Lady Tressilian's house and
Mary looked across the narrow strip of water
at it now where it stood in its blatant white
newness.


"I am glad," said Lady Tressilian, closing
her eyes, "that Matthew never saw that vul-gar
building. The coastline was quite unspoilt
in his time."

Sir Matthew and Lady Tressilian had come
to Gull's Point thirty years ago. It was ten
years since Sir Matthew, an enthusiastic sail-ing
man, had capsized his dinghy and been
drowned almost in front of his wife's eyes.

Everybody had expected her to sell Gull's
Point and leave Saltcreek but Lady Tressilian
had not done so. She had lived on in the
house, and her only visible reaction had been
to dispose of all the boats and do away with
the boathouse. There were no boats available
for guests at Gull's Point. They had to walk
along to the ferry and hire a boat from one
of the rival boatmen there.

Marv said. hesitatine a little:


"Shall I write, then, to Nevile and tell him
that what he proposes does not fit in with
your plans?"
"I certainly shall not dream of interfering
with Audrey's visit. She has always come to
us in September and I shall not ask her to
change her plans."
Mary said, looking down at the letter:
"You did see that Nevile says Audrey
er approves of the idea that she is quite
willing to meet Kay?"
"I simply don't believe it," said Lady
Tressilian. "Nevile, like all men, believes
what he wants to believe!"
Mary persisted:
"He says he has actually spoken to her
about it."
"What a very odd thing to do! No perhaps,
after all, it isn't!"
Mary looked at her inquiringly.
"Like Henry the Eighth," said Lady Tressilian.
Mary looked puzzled.
Lady Tressilian elaborated her last remark.
"Conscience, you know! Henry was always
trying to get Catherine to agree that the
divorce was the right thing. Nevile knows
that he has behaved badly he wants to feel comfortable about it all. So he has been ttwin


to bully Audrey into saying everything is all
right and that she'll ct)me and meet Kay and
that she doesn't mind at all."

"I wonder," said/lary slowly.

Lady Tressilian loked at her sharply.
"What's in your mind, my dear?"

"I was wonderings" She stopped, then
went on: "It it seems so unlike Nevile--this
letter! You don't thin& that, for some reason,
Audrey wants this valois meeting?"

"Why should she" said Lady Tressilian
sharply. "After Neviile left her she went to
her aunt, Mrs. Royqte, at the Rectory, and
had a complete brekdown. She was abso-lutely
like a ghost of her former self. Obvi-ously
it hit her terrfi.'bly hard. She's one of
those quiet, self-cortained people who feel
things intensely."

Mary moved uneasily.

"Yes, she is intemse. A queer girl in many


ways...

	"She suffered a l%t 	Then
the divorce
went
through and Nevile married the girl

and
little by little Audrey began to get
over it. Now she's almost back to
her old self. You can't tell me slhe
wants to
rake up old memories again?"

Mary
said
with
g

:entle
obstinacy:


The old lady looked at her curiously.
"You're extraordinarily obstinate about
this, Mary. Why? Do you want to have them
here together?"

Mary Aldin flushed.

"No, of course not."

Lady Tressilian said sharply:

"It's not you who have been suggesting all
this to Nevile?"

"How can you be so absurd?"

"Well, I don't believe for a minute it's
really his idea. It's not like Nevile." She
paused a minute, then her face cleared. "It's
the first of May tomorrow, isn't it? Well, on
the third Audrey is coming to stay with the
Darlingtons at Esbank. It's only twenty miles
away. Write and ask her to come over and
lunch here."


May 5th


"Mrs. Strange, m'lady."

Audrey Strange came into the big bed-room,
crossed the room to the big bed,
stooped down and kissed the old lady and
sat down in the chair placed ready for her.

"Nice to see you, my dear," said Lady
Tressilian.


"And nice to see you," said Audrey.
There was a quality of intangibility about
Audrey Strange. She was of medium height
with very small hands and feet. Her hair was
ash blonde and there was very little color in
her face. Her eyes were set wide apart and
were a clear, pale grey. Her features were
small and regular, a straight little nose set in
a small oval pale face. With such coloring,
with a face that was pretty but not beautiful,
she had nevertheless a quality about her that
could not be ignored and that drew your
eyes to her again and again. She was a little
like a ghost, but you felt at the same time
that a ghost might be possessed of more
reality than a live human being ....

She had a singularly lovely voice; soft and
clear like a small silver bell.

For some minutes she and the old lady
talked of mutual friends and current events.
Then Lady Tressilian said:

"Besides the pleasure of seeing you, my
dear, I asked you to come because I've had
rather a curious letter from Nevile."

Audrey looked up. Her eyes were wide,

tranquil and calm. She said:

"Oh, yes?"

"He suggests a preposterous suggestion,


here in September. He says he wants you
and Kay to be friends and that you yourself
think it a good idea."
She waited. Presently Audrey said in her
gentle placid voice:
"Is it so preposterous?"
"My dear--do you really want this to
happen?"
Audrey was silent again for a minute or
two, then she said gently:
"I think, you know, it might be rather a
good thing."
"You really want to meet this you want
to meet Kay?"
"I do think, Camilla, that it might, simpnfy
ngs.-
"Simplify things!" Lady Tressilian. repeated
the words helplessly.
Audrey spoke very softly.
"Dear Camilla. You have been so good. If
Nevile wants this "
"A fig for what Nevile wants!" said Lady
Tressilian robustly. "Do you want it, that's
the question?"
A little color came into Audrey's cheeks.
It was the soft delicate glow of a sea shell.
"Yes," she said. "I do want it."
"XVelI," said Lady Tressilian" well.."


"But, of course," said Audrey. "It is entirely
your choice. It is your house and "
Lady Tressilian shut her eyes.
"I'm an old woman," she said. "Nothing
makes sense any more."
"But of course I'll come some other
time Any time will suit me."
"You'll come in September as you always
do," snapped Lady Tressilian. "And Nevile
and Kay shall come too. I may be old but

I can adapt myself, I suppose, as well as
anyone else, to the changing phases of modern
life. Not another word, that's settled."
She closed her eyes again. After a minute
or two she said, peering through half-shut
lids at the young woman sitting beside her:
"Well, got what you want?"
Audrey started.
"Oh, yes, yes. Thank you."
"My dear," said Lady Tressilian, and her
voice was deep and concerned, "are you sure
this isn't going to hurt you? You were very
fond of Nevile, you know. This may reopen
old wounds."
Audrey was looking down at her small
gloved hands. One of them, Lady Tressilian
noticed, was clenched on the side of the bed.
Audrey lifted her head. Her eyes were
calm and untroubled.


She said:

"All that is quite over now. Quite over."


Lady Tressilian leaned more heavily back
on her pillows.

"Well you should know. I'm tired you
must leave me now, dear. Mary is waiting
for you downstairs. Tell them to send Barrett


to me.


Barrett was Lady Tressilian's elderly and
devoted maid.

She came in to find her mistress lying
back with closed eyes.

"The sooner I'm out of this world the
better, Barrett," said Lady Tressilian. "I
don't understand anythng or anyone in it."

"Ah! don't say that, my lady, you're tired."

"Yes, I'm tired. Take that eiderdown off
my feet and give me a dose of my tonic."

"It's Mrs. Strange coming that upset you.
A nice lady, but she could do with a tonic,
I'd say. Not healthy. Always looks as though
she's seeing things other people don't see.
But she's got a lot of character. She makes
herself felt, as you might say."

"That's very tree, Barrett," said Lady
Tressilian."Yes, that's very true."

"And she's not the kind you forget easily,
either. I've often wondered if Mr. Nevile
thinks about her sometimes. The new Mrs.


Strange is very handsome very handsome
indeed but Miss Audrey is the kind you
remember when she isn't there."
	Lady

		Tressilian said with a sudden
chuckle:
"Nevile's a fool to want to bring those two
women together. He's the one who'll be sorry
for it!"

May 29th

I1

Thomas Royde, pipe in mouth, was surveying
the progress of his packing with which
the deft-fmgered Malayan No. 1 boy was
busy. Occasionally his glance shifted to the
view over the plantations. For some six
months he would not see that view which

had been so familiar for the past seven years.
It would be queer to be in England again.
Allen Drake, his partner, looked in.
'"Hullo, Thomas, how goes it?"
"All set now."
"Come and have a drink, you lucky devil.
I'm consumed with envy."
Thomas Royde moved slowly out of the
bedroom and joined his friend. He did not
speak, for Thomas Royde was a man sin
learned to gauge his reactions correctly from
the quality of his silences.


A rather thickset figure, with a straight
solemn face and observant thoughtful eyes.
He walked a little sideways, crablike. This,
the result of being jammed in a door during
an earthquake, had contributed towards his
nickname of the Hermit Crab. It had left
his right arm and shoulder partially helpless
which, added to an artificial stiffness of gait,
often led people to think he was feeling shy
and awkward when in reality he seldom felt
anything of the kind.

Allen Drake mixed the drinks.

"Well," he said. "Good hunting!"

Royde said something that sounded like


Drake looked at him curiously.
"Phlegmatic as ever," he remarked.
"Don't know how you manage it. How long
is it since you went home?"

"Seven years--nearer eight."

"It's a long time. Wonder you haven't

gone completely native."

"Perhaps I have."

"You always did belong to Our Dumb
Friends rather than to the human race!
Planned out your leave?"

"Well yes--partly."


The bronze impassive face took a sudden
and a deeper brick red tinge.

Allen Drake said with lively astonishment:

"I believe there's a girl! Damn it all, you
are blushing!"

Thomas Royde said rather huskily:
"Don't be a fool!"

And he drew very hard on his ancient
pipe.

He broke all previous records by continu-ing
the conversation himself.

"Daresay," he said, "I shall find things a
bit changed.'

Allen Drake asked curiously:

"I've always wondered why you chucked
going home last time. Right at the last
minute, too."

Royde shrugged his shoulders.

"Thought that shooting trip might be in-teresting.
Bad news from home about then."

"Of course. I forgot. Your brother was

killed in that motoring accident."
Thomas Royde nodded.

Drake reflected that, all the same, it
seemed a curious reason for putting off a
journey home. There was a mother he be-lieved,
a sister also. Surely at such a time


had canceled his passage before the news of
his brother's death arrived.

Allen looked at his friend curiously. Dark
horse, old Thomas?

After a lapse of three years he could ask:
"You and your brother great pals?"
"Adrian and I? Not particularly. Each of
us always went his own way. He was a bar-rister.''

"Yes," thought Drake, "a very different
life. Chambers in London, parties, a living
earned by the shrewd use of the tongue." He
reflected that Adrian Royde must have been

a very different chap from old Silent Thomas.
"Your mother's alive, isn't she?"
"The Mater? Yes."

"And you've got a sister, too."

Thomas shook his head.

"Oh, I thought you had. In that snap-shot.
"

Royde mumbled. "Not a sister. Sort of
distant cousin or something. Brought up with
us because she was an orphan."

Once more a slow tide of color suffused
the bronzed skin.


Drake thought, "Hello.. -o.
He said: "Is she married?"
"She was. Married that


fellow Nevile


"Fellow who plays tennis and rackets and
all that?"

"Yes. She divorced him."

"And you're going home to try your luck
with her," thought Drake.

Mercifully he changed the subject of the
conversation.

"Going to get any fishing or shooting?"

"Shall go home first. Then I thought of
doing a bit of sailing down at Saltcreek."

"I know it. Attractive little place. Rather a
decent old-fashioned hotel there."

"Yes. The Balmoral Court. May stay there,
or may put up with friends who've got a
house there."

"Sounds all right to me."

"Ah hum. Nice peaceful place, Saltcreek.
Nobody to hustle you."

"I know," said Drake. "The kind of place
where nothing ever happens."


June 16th


"It is really most annoying," said old Mr.
Treves. "For twenty-five years now I have
been to the Marine Hotel at Leahead and
now, would you believe it, the whole place
is being pulled down. Widening the front


or some nonsense of that kind. Why they
can't let these seaside places alone Leahead
always had a peculiar charm of its own
Regency--pure Regency."

Sir Rufus Lord said consolingly:

"Still, there are other places to stay there,
I suppose?"

"I really don't feel I can go to Leahead at
all. At the Marine, Mrs. Mackay understood
my requirements perfectly. I had the same
rooms every year and there was hardly ever
a change in the service. And the cooking was
excellent quite excellent."

"What about trying Saltcreek? There's
rather a nice old-fashioned hotel there. The
Balmoral Court. Tell you who keeps it.
Couple of the name of Rogers. She used to
be cook to old Lord Mounthead he had the
best dinners in London. She married the
butler and they run this hotel now. It sounds
to me just your kind of place. Quiet none
of these jazz bands and first-class cooking
and service."

"It's an idea it's certainly an idea. Is there
a sheltered terrace?"

"Yes a covered-in verandah and a ter-race
beyond. You can get sun or shade as
you prefer. I can give you some intro-ductions
in the neighborhood, too, if you


like. There's old Lad, Tressilian she lives
almost next door. A c}tarming house and she
herself is a delightful woman in spite of
being very much of a invalid."
"The judge's wido% do you mean?"
"That's it."
"I used to know h4atthew Tressilian, and
I think I've met her. A charming woman
though of course that's a long time ago.
Saltcreek is near St. Loo, isn't it? I've several
friends in that part of the world. Do you
know, I really think 8altcreek is a very good
idea. I shall write and get particulars. The
middle of August is when I wish to go there
the middle of August to the middle of
September. There is a garage for the car, I
suppose? And my chauffeur?"
"Oh, yes. It's thoroughly up to date."
"Because, as you know, I have to be careful
about walking ut) hill. I should prefer
rooms on the ground floor, though I suppose
there is a lift."
"Oh, yes, all that sort of thing."
"It sounds," said Mr. Treves, "as though
it would solve my problem perfectly. And
I should enjoy renewing my acquaintance
with Lady Tressilian."


July 28th


Kay Strange, dressed in shorts and a canary-colored
woolly, was leaning forward watch-ing
the tennis players. It was the semifinal of
the tournament, men's singles, and Nevile
was playing young Merrick who was regarded
as the coming star in the tennis firmament.
His brilliance was undeniable some of his
serves quite unreturnable but he occasion-ally
struck a wild patch when the older man's
experience and court craft won the day.

The score was three-all in the pounds al set.

Slipping onto a seat next to Kay, Ted
Latimer observed in a lazy, ironic voice:

"Devoted wife watches her husband slash

his way to victory!"

Kay started.

"How you startled me. I didn't know you
were there."

"I am always there. You should know that
by this time."

Ted Latimer was twenty-five and ex-tremely
good looking even though unsym-pathetic
old colonds were wont to say of


'Touch of the Dago!"

He was dark and beautifully sunburned
and a wonderful dancer.


like. There's old Lady Tressilian she lives
almost next door. A charming house and she
herself is a delightful woman in spite of
being very much of an invalid."

"The judge's widow, do you mean?"

"That's it."

"I used to know Matthew Tressilian, and

I think I've met her. A charming woman

though of course that's a long time ago.
Saltcreek is near St. Loo, isn't it? I've sev-eral
friends in that part of the world. Do you
know, I really think Saltcreek is a very good
idea. I shall write and get particulars. The
middle of August is when I wish to go there

the middle of August to the middle of
September. There is a garage for the car, I
suppose? And my chauffeur?"

"Oh, yes. It's thoroughly up to date."
"Because, as you know, I have to be care-ful
about walking up hill. I should prefer
rooms on the ground floor, though I suppose
there is a lift."

"Oh, yes, all that sort of thing."

"It sounds," said Mr. Treves, "as though


it would solve my problem perfectly. And
I should enjoy renewing my acquaintance
with Lady Tressilian."


Kay Strange, dressed in shorts and a canary-colored
woolly, was leaning forward watch-ing
the tennis players. It was the semif'mal of
the tournament, men's singles, and Nevile
was playing young Merrick who was regarded
as the coming star in the tennis firmament.
His brilliance was undeniable some of his
serves quite unreturnable but he occasion-ally
struck a wild patch when the older man's
experience and court craft won the day.

The score was three-all in the f'mal set.

Slipping onto a seat next to Kay, Ted
Latimer observed in a lazy, ironic voice:

"Devoted wife watches her husband slash

his way to victory!"

Kay started.

"How you startled me. I didn't know you
were there."

"I am always there. You should know that

by this time."

Ted Latimer was
tremely good looking
pathetic old colonels
him:


twenty-five and ex
even
though unsym-were
wont to say of

"Touch of the Dago!"

He was dark and beautifully sunburned
and a wonderful dancer.


His dark eyes could be very eloquent, and
he managed his voice with the assurance
of an actor. Kay had known him since she
was fifteen. They had oiled and sunned
themsdves at Juan-les-Pins, had danced together
and played tennis together. They had
been not only friends but allies.
Young Merrick was serving from the left
hand court. Nevile's return was unplayable,
a superb shot to the extreme corner.
"Nevile's backhand is good," said Ted.
"It's better than his forehand. Merrick's weak
on the backhand and Nevile knows it. He's
going to pound at it all he knows how."
The game ended. "Four-three--Strange
leads."
He took the next game on his service.
Young Merrick was hitting out wildly. "Five-three."
"Good for Nevile," said Latimer.
And then the boy pulled himself together.
His play became cautious. He varied the pace
of his shots.
"He's got a head on him," said Ted. "And
his footwork is lb:st class. It's going to be a
fight."
Slowly the boy pulled up to five-all. Then
went to seven-all and Merrick finally won


N.evile .came up to the net, grinning and
shaking his head ruefully, to shake hands.

Youth tells, smd Ted Laumer.
"Nineteen against thirty-three. But I can tell

you the reason,

Kay, why. Nevfle has never
been actually championship class. He's too

good a loser."


"Nonsense."

"It isn't. Nevfle, blast him i

...... , - - , o ,y me
c.ompete .gooa sportsman. I've never seen

him lose his temper over losing a match."

"Of course not," said Kay. "People don't."

	"Oh, yes, they do! We've all

	seen em.

	Tennis stars who give way to nerves and

	who damn well

	snatch every advantage. But

	old Nevile he's always ready to take the

	count

		and grin. Let the best man win and

	all that. God, how I hate the public-school

spirit! Thank the Lord I never went to one."
Kay turned her head.

"Being rather spiteful, aren't you?"
"Positively feline!"

"I wish you wouldn't make it so clear you
don't like Nevile."

"Why should I Like him? He pinched my


His eyes lingered on her.


"Quite so. Not even the proverbial tup-pence
a year between us."

"Shut up. I fell in love with Nevile and


"And he's a jolly good fellow
all of us!"

"Are you trying to annoy me?"


and so say


She turned her head as she asked the ques-tion.
He smiled and presently she returned
his smile.

"How's the summer going, Kay?"

"So, so. Lovely yachting trip. I'm rather
tired of all this tennis business."

"How long have you got of it? Another
month?"

"Yes. Then in September we go to Gull's
Point for a fortnight."

"I shall be at the Easterhead Bay Hotd,"
said Ted. "I've booked my room."

"It's going to be a lovely party!" said Kay.
"Nevile and I, and Nevile's Ex, and some

Malayan planter who's home on leave."
"That does sound hilarious!"

"And the dowdy cousin, of course. Slav-ing
away around that unpleasant old woman

and she won't get anything for it, either,
since the money comes to me and Nevile."

"Perhaps," said Ted, "she doesn't know
that?"


"That would be rather funny," said Kay.
But she spoke absently.
She stared down at the racket she was
twiddling in her hands. She caught her breath
suddenly.
"Oh, Ted!"
"What's the matter, sugar?"
"I don't know. It's just sometimes I get
I get cold feet! I get scared and feel queer."
"That doesn't sound like you, Kay."
"It doesn't, does it? Anyway," she smiled
rather uncertainly, "you'll be at the Eas-terhead
Bay Hotel."
"All according to plan."
When Kay met Nevile outside the changing
rooms, he said:
"I see the boy friend's arrived."
"Ted?"
"Yes, the faithful dog or faithful liTard
might be more apt."
"You don't like him, do you?"
"Oh, I don't mind him. If it amuses you
to pull him around on a string
	"
	He shrugged his shoulders.

	Kay said:

	"I believe you're jealous."
"Of Latimer?" His surprise was genuine.
Kay said:
"Ted's suttosed to be very attractive."


"I'm sure he is. He has that lithe South
American charm."
"You are jealous."
Nevile gave her arm a friendly squeeze.
"No, I'm not, gorgeous. You can have
your tame adorers a whole court of them
if you like. I'm the man in possession and
possession is Nine points of the law."
"You're very sure of yourself," said Kay
with a slight pout.
"Of course. You and I are Fate. Fate let
us meet. Fate brought us together. Do you
remember when we met at Cannes and I was
going on to Estoril and suddenly, when I
got there, the first person I saw was lovely
and that

Kay! I knew then that it was Fate
I couldn't escape."
"It wasn't exactly Fate," said was me I"

Kay. "It

"What do you mean by 'it was me'?"
"Because it was! You see, I heard you say
in the hotel you were going to Estoril, so I
set to work on Mums and got her all worked
up and that's why the first person you saw
when you got there was Kay."
Nevile looked at her with a rather curious
expression. He said slowly: "You never told
me that before."
"No, because it wouldn't have been ood


for you. It might have made you conceited!
But I always have been good at planning.
Things don t happen unless you make them!
You call me a nitwit sometimes .but in my
own way I'm quite clever. I make things
happen. Sometimes I have to plan a long
way beforehand."
"The brainwork must be intense."
"It's all very well to laugh."
Nevile said with a sudden curious bitterness,
"Am I just beginning to understand
the woman I've married? For Fate read
Kay?
Kay said:
"You're not cross, are you, Nevile?"
He said rather absently:

"No no, of course not. I was just thinking "

August loth

"And bang goes my holiday," said Superintendent
Battle disgustedly.
Mrs. Battle was disappointed, but long
years as the wife of a police officer had pre°
pared her to take disappointments philosophicallv.


"Oh, well," she said, "it can't be helped.
And I suppose it/s an interesting case?"
"Not so that you'd notice it," said Superintendent
Battle. "It's got the Foreign Office
in a twitter all those tall, thin young men
rushing about and saying Hush Hush here,
there and everywhere. It'll straighten out easy
enough and we shall save everybody's face.
But it's not the kind of case I'd put in my
Memoirs, supposing I was ever foolish
enough to write any."
"We could put our holiday off, I suppose
"began Mrs. Battle doubtfully but
her husband interrupted her decisively.
"Not a bit of it. You and the girls go off
to Brifiington the rooms have been booked
since March pity to waste them. I tell you
what I'll do go down and spend a week
with Jim when this blows over."

Jim was Superintendent Battle's nephew,
Inspector James Leach.
"Saltington's quite close to Easterhead Bay
and Saltcreek," he went on. "I can get a bit
of sea air and a dip in the briny."
Mrs. Battle sniffed.
"More likely he'll rope you in to help him
over a case I"
"They don't have any cases this time of
the year unless it's a woman who 3inche.q



IF


few sixpennyworths, from Woolworth's;
d anyway Jim's all right--he doesn't neect
his wits sharpened for him."
"Oh, well," said Mrs. Battle. "I suppose
it will work out all right but it is disappoint-

"These things are sent to try us," Superintendent
Battle assured her.


Snow White nd Rose Red

Thomas Royde fun Mary Aldin waiting
for him on the platforn at Saltington when
he got out of the traits.
He had only a tim recollection of her and
now that he saw her again, he was rather
surpfisedly aware of'pleasure at her brisk
capable way of de!in, with things.
She called him by his Christian name
"How race to see .-you, Thomas. After all these years."
"Nice of you to Pttut me up. Hope it isn't a
bother."
"Not at all. On the contrary. You'll be
particularly welctmee' Is that your porter?
Tell him to bring the things out this way.
I've got the car right .t at the end."
The bags were stc:owed in the Ford· Mary
took the wheel arid Il Royde got in beside her.
They drove off ad 'Thomas noticed that she
...,, , ,,-,,-,,-I rlv4,,, .a rL --.,,.1 ..,,,.,fid in traffic


and with a nice judgment of distance and
spaces.
Saltington was seven miles from Saltcreek.
Once they were out of the small market town
and on the open road, Mary Aldin reopened
the subject of his visit.
"Really, Thomas, your visit just now is
going to be a godsend. Things are rather
difficult and a stranger or rather an outsider
is just what is needed."
"What's the trouble?"
His manner, as always, was incurious
almost lazy. He asked the question, it
seemed, more from politeness than because
he had any desire for the information. It was
a manner particularly soothing to Mary
Aldin. She wanted badly to talk to someone
but she much preferred to talk to someone
who was not too much interested.
She said:
"Well we've got rather a difficult situation.
Audrey is here, as you probably
know?"
She paused questioningly and Thomas
nodded.
"And Nevile and his wife too."
Thomas Royde's eyebrows went up. He
after a minute or two:
"Bit awkward what?"


"Yes, it is. It was all Nevilelle's idea."
She paused. Royde did noot speak, but as
though aware of some curremat of disbelief issuing
from him, she repeated fl assertively:
"It was Nevile's idea."
"Why?"
She raised her hands for a moment from
the steering wheel.
"Oh, some modern reacfioion! All sensible
and friends together. That iclfiea. But I don't
think, you know, it's workin§g very well."
"Possibly it mightn't." He added, "What's
the new wife like?"
"Kay? Good looking, of'course. Really
very good looking. And quitee young."
"And Nevile's keen on herr?"
"Oh, yes. Of course the-;y've only been
married a year and a half."
Thomas Royde turned hiss head slowly to
look at her. His mouth smiled a little. Mary
said hastily:
"I didn't mean that exactl3y."
"Come now, Mary. I you did."
"Well, one can't help seeiing that they've
really got very little in common. Their
friends, for instance "She ocame to a stop.
Royde asked:
"l-Iv- met her. didn't he. on the Riviera?


I don't know much about it. Only just the
bare facts that the Mater wrote."

"Yes, they met first at Cannes. Nevile was
attracted but I should imagine he'd been
attracted before in a harmless sort of way.
I still think myself that if he'd been left to
himself nothing would have come of it. He

was fond of Audrey, you know?"
Thomas nodded.
Mary went on:

"I don't think he wanted to break up his
marriage I'm sure he didn't. But the girl
was absolutely determined. She wouldn't rest
until she'd got him to leave his wife and
what's a man to do under those circum-stances?
It flatters him, of course."

"Head over ears in love with him, was
she?"

"I suppose it may have been that."

Mary's tone sounded doubtful. She met
his inquiring glance with a flush.

"What a cat I am! There's a young man
always hanging about good looking in a
gigolo kind of way an old friend of hers
and I can't help wondering sometimes
whether the fact that Nevile is very well off
and distinguished and all that didn't have
something to do with it. The girl hadn't a
:ennv of her own, I gather."


She paused, looking rather ashamed.
Thomas Royde merely said: "Um-hum," in
a speculative voice.

"However," said Mary, "that's probably
plain cat! The girl is what one would call
glamorous and that probably rouses the
feline instincts of middle-aged spinsters."

Royde looked thoughtfully at her, but his
poker face showed no recognizable reaction.
He said, after a minute or two:

"What, exactly, is the present trouble
about?"

"Really, you know, I haven't the least ideal
That's what's so odd. Naturally we consulted
Audrey first and she seemed to have no
feeling against meeting Kay--she was charm-ing
about it all. She has been charming. No
one could have been nicer. Audrey, of course,
in everything she does is always just right.
Her manner to them both is perfect. She's
very reserved, as you know, and one never
has any idea of what she is really thinking
or feeling but honestly I don't believe she
minds at all."

"No reason why she should," said Thomas
Royde. He added rather belatedly, "After
all, it's three years ago."

"Do people like Audrey forget? She was
very fond of Nevile."


Thomas Royde shifted in his seat.
"She's only thirty-two. Got her life in front
of her."
"Oh, I know. But she did take it hard.
She had quite a bad nervous breakdown, you
knOW."
"I know. The Mater wrote me."
"In a way," said Mary, "I think it was
good for your mother to have Audrey to
look after. It took her mind off her own grief
about your brother's death. We were so
sorry about that."
"Yes. Poor old Adrian. Always did drive
too fast."
There was a pause. Mary stretched out
her hand as a sign she was taking the turn
that led down the hill to Saltcreek.
Presently, as they were slipping down the
narrow twisting road, she said:
"Thomas you know Audrey very well?"
"So, so. Haven't seen much of her for the
last ten years."
"No, but you knew her as a child. She
was like a sister to you and Adrian?"
He nodded.
"Was she was she at all unbalanced in
any way? Oh, I don't mean that quite the
way it sounds. But I've a feeling that there
is something very wrong with her now. She's


so completely detached, her poise is so unnaturally
perfect but I wonder sometimes
what is going on behind the faqade. I've a
feeling, now and then, of some really powerful
emotion. And I don't quite know what
it is! But I do feel that she isn't normal.
There's something! It worries me. I do know
that there's an atmosphere in the house
that affects everybody. We're all nervous and
jumpy. But I don't know what it is. And
sometimes, Thomas, it frightens me."
"Frightens you?" His slow wondering tone made her pull herself together with a little
nervous laugh.
"It does sound absurd .... But that's
what I meant just now your arrival will be
good for us create a diversion. Ah, here we
are.
They had slipped round the last corner.
Gull's Point was built on a plateau of
rock overlooking the river. On two sides it
had sheer cliff going down to the water. The
gardens and tennis court were on the left
of the house. The garage a modem afterthought
was actually further along the road,
on the other side of it.
Mary said:
"I'll put the car away now and come back.


Hurstall, the aged butler, was greeting
Thomas with the pleasure of an old friend.
"Very glad to see you, Mr. Royde, after
all these years. And so will her ladyship be.
You're in the East Room, sir. I think you'll
f'md everyone in the garden, unless you want
to go to your room first."
Thomas shook his head. He went through
the drawing room and up to the window
which opened onto the terrace. He stood
there a moment, watching, unobserved himself.
Two women were the only occupants of
the terrace. One was sitting on the corner
of the balustrade looking out over the water.
The other woman was watching her.
The fzrst was Audrey--the other, he knew,
must be Kay Strange. Kay did not know she
was being looked over and she took no pains
to disguise her expression. Thomas Royde
was not, perhaps, a very observant man
where women were concerned, but he could
not fail to notice that Kay Strange disliked
Audrey Strange very much.
As for Audrey, she was looking out across
the river and seemed unconscious of, or indifferent
to, the other's presence.
It was over seven years since Thomas had


very carefullt. Had she changed, an,nd, if so,
in what way!
There wala change, he decided. She was
.thinner, paler, altogether more ether:eal look-rog.
but re was something elsee, something
he cold not quite define. Itl.t was as
though she were holding herself tiia'ghtly in
leash, watc.thg over every movement and
yet all the the intensely aware of exrerything
going on rohad her. She was like aa person,
he thought, who had a secret to lrdde. But
what secret.: He knew a little of thae events
that had betllen her in the last fe'-'w years.
He had bee prepared for lines of sorrow
and loss bht this was something eelse. She
was like a Child who, by a tightly .clenched
hand over a treasure, calls attention, to what
it wants to hide.
And the his eyes went to te other
woman the girl who was now' Nevile
Strange's W/re' Beautiful, yes. MaY Aldin
had been fight. He rather fancied dagerous,

too. He %ght: ffI wouldn't like to .thrust
her near XMrey she had a knife m her
hand ....
And yet Xhv should she hate Nev'ile's first
wife? All t
tll was over and. doae. W..lth.
Audrey had no part or parcel m tlaexr lives
nowadays.


Footsteps rang out on the terrace, as
Nevile came round the corner of the house.

He looked warm and was carrying a picture
paper.
"Here's the Illustrated Review," he said.
"Couldn't get the other "
Then two things happened at precisely the
same minute.
Kay said: "Oh, good, give it to me," and
Audrey, without moving her head, held out
her hand almost absentmindedly.
Nevile had stopped halfway between the
two women. A dawn of embarrassment
showed in his face. Before he could speak,
Kay said, her voice rising with a slight note

of hysteria:
"I want it. Give it to me! Give it to me,
Nevile!"
Audrey Strange started, turned her head,
withdrew her hand and murmured with just
the slightest air of confusion:
"Oh, sorry, I thought you were speaking
to me, Nevile."
Thomas Royde saw the color come up
brick red in Nevile Strange's neck. He took
three quick steps forward and held out the
picture paper to Audrey.
She said, hesitating, her air of embarrassment
rowinm


"Oh, but "

Kay pushed back her chair with a rough
movement. She stood up, then, turning, she
made for the drawing-room window. Royde
had no time to move before she had charged
into him blindly.

The shock made her recoil; she looked at
him as he apologized. He saw then why she
had not seen him, her eyes were brimming
with tears tears, he fancied, of anger.

"Hullo," she said. "Who are you? Oh! of
course, the man from Malay!"

"Yes," said Thomas. "I'm the man from
Malay."

"I wish to God I was in Malay," said Kay.
"Anywhere but here! I loathe this beastly
lousy house! I loathe everyone in it!"

Emotional scenes always alarmed Thomas.
He regarded Kay warily and murmured ner-vously:


"Unless they're careful," said Kay, "I shall
kill someone! Either Nevile or that whey-faced
cat out there!"

She brushed past him and went out of the
room banging the door.

Thomas Royde stood stock still. He was
not quite sure what to do next, but he
was elad that voune Mrs. Stranee had eone.


He stood and looked at the door that she had
slammed so vigorously. Something of a tiger
cat, the new Mrs. Strange.
The window was darkened as Nevile
Strange paused in the space between the
French doors. He was breathing rather fast.
He greeted Thomas vaguely.
"Oh er hullo, Royde, didn't know
you'd arrived. I say, have you seen my wife?"
"She passed through about a minute ago,"
said the other.
Nevile in lais turn went out through the
drawing-room door. He was looking annoyed.
Thomas Royde went slowly through the
open window. He was not a heavy walker.
Not until he was a couple of yards away, did
Audrey turn her head.
Then he saw those wide-apart eyes open,
saw her lips part. She slipped down from the
wall and came towards him, hands outstretched.
"Oh, Thomas," she said. "Dear Thomas!
How glad I a you've come."
As he took the two small white hands
in his and bet down to her, Mary Aldin in
her turn arrived at the French windows. Seeing
the two on the terrace she checked herself,
watched them for a moment or two,


then slowlvllened away and went back into
the house..e.

II

Upstairs, -- ltde had found Kay in her bedroom.
Th,aeoy large double bedroom in the

house wasps Ldy Tressilian's. A married couple
were : ys given the two rooms with
communi-cg door and a small bathroom
beyond OlX¢ west side of the house. It was
a small iscoted suite.
Nevile I; lsed through his own room and
on into t-daisrife's. Kay had flung herself
down on lvh¢Ibed. Raising a tear-stained face,
she cried c out mgrily:
"So yottzu've come! About time, too!"
"What jl this fuss about? Have you

	gone q.uite0zy, Kay?"
	I

	Nevile slle quietly, but there was.a dint

		I

	at the com,rer of his nostril that regastered

	restrained ger.

	"Why ct:d you give that Illustrated Review

	to her andll of to me?"

	"Really, by, you are a child! All this fuss

	about a wretch, ed little picture paper."
	I

	"You g;::ae it to her and not to me," re
	rmated
Ka-- tv bstinatelv'


"Well, why not? What does it matter?"
"It matters to me."

"I don't know what's wrong with you.
You can't behave in this hysterical fash-ion
when you're staying in other people's
houses. Don't you know how to behave in
public?"

"Why did you give it to Audrey?"
"Because she wanted it."

"So did I, and I'm your wife."

"All the more reason, in that case, for
giving it to an older woman and one who,
technically, is no relation."

"She scored off me! She wanted to and
she did. You were on her si&l"

"You're talking like an idiotic jealous child.
For goodness' sake, control yourself, and try

and behave properly in public!"
"Like she does, I suppose?"
Nevile said coldly:

"At any rate Audrey can behave like a
lady. She doesn't make an exhibition of
herself."

"She's mining you against me! She hates
me and she's getting her revenge."

"Look here, Kay, will you stop being
melodramatic and completely foolish? I'm fed
up!"


"Then let's go away from here! Let's go
tomorrow. I hate this place!"
"We've only been here four days.',
"It's quite enough! Do let's go, Nevile."
"Now look here, Kay, I've had enough of
this. We came here for a fortnight and I'm going to stay for a fortnight."
"If you do," said Kay, "you'll be sorry.
You and your Audrey! You think she' won- defful!"
"I don't think Audrey is wonderful. I think
she's an extremely nice and kindly laerson
whom I've treated very badly and wlho has
been most generous and forgiving."
"That's where you're wrong," saidt Kay.
She got up from the bed. Her fury had died
down. She spoke seriously almost so;berly.
"Audrey hasn't forgiven you, Nevil. Once

or twice I've seen her looking at youy . . . I
don't know what is going on in her miind but

something is She's the kind that , doesn't
let anyone know what they're thinkintg."
"It's a pity," said Nevile, "that ther,:e aren't
more people like that."
Kay's face went very white.
"Do you mean that for me?" Therxe was a
dangerous edge to her voice.
"Well you haven't shown mucx:h retio -oneo- have yom? Every bit of ill temnner and


spite that comes into your mind you blurt
straight out. You make a fool of yourself and
you make a fool of me!"

"Anything more to say?"

Her voice was icy.

He said in an equally cold tone:

"I'm sorry if you think that was unfair.
But it's the plain troth. You've no more
self-control than a child."

"You never lose your temper, do you?
Always the self-controlled chamg-mannered
little pukka sahib! I don't believe
you've got any feelings. You're just a fish a
damned cold-blooded fish.t Why don't you
let yourself go now and then? Why don't
you shout at me, swear at me, tell me to go
to hell?"

Nevile sighed. His shoulders sagged.
"Oh, Lord," he said.

Turning on his heel he left the room.


III


"You look exactly as you did at seventeen,
Thomas Royde," said Lady Tressilian. "Just
the same owlish look. And no more conver-sation
now than you had then. Why not?"

Thomas said vaeuelv:


"I dunno. Never had the gift of the gab."
"Not like Adrian. Adrian was a very clever
and witty talker."
"Perhaps that's why. Always left the talking
to him."
"Poor Adrian. So much promise."
Thomas nodded.
Lady Tressilian changed her subject. She
was granting an audience to Thomas. She
usually preferred her visitors one at a time.
It did not tire her and she was able to concentrate
her attention on them.
"You've been here twenty-four hours," she
said. "What do you think of our Situation?"
"Situation?"
"Don't look stupid. You do that deliberately.
You know quite well what I mean.
The eternal triangle which has established
itself under my roof."
Thomas said cautiously:
"Seems a bit of friction."
Lady Tressilian .smiled rather diabolically.
"I will confess to you, Thomas, I am rather
enjoying myself. This came about through
no wish of mine indeed I did my utmost
to prevent it. Nevile was obstinate. He would
insist on bringing these two together .and
now he is reaping what he has sown!"
Thomas Rovde .hifted a little in hi. chair"Seems funny," he said.

"Elucidate," snapped Lady Tressilian.

"Shouldn't have thought Strange was that
kind of chap."

"It's interesting your saying that. Because
it is what I felt. It was uncharacteristic of
Nevile. Nevile, like most men, is usually
anxious to avoid any kind of embarrassment
or possible unpleasantness. I suspected that
it wasn't originally Nevile's idea but, if not,
I don't see whose idea it can have been."
She paused and said with only the slight-est
upward inflection, "It wouldn't be
Audrey's?"

Thomas said promptly, "No, not Audrey."
"And I can hardly believe it was that
unfortunate young woman, Kay's, idea. Not
unless she is a really remarkable actress.
You know, I have almost felt sorry for her
lately."

"You don't like her much, do you?"
"No. She seems to me empty-headed and
lacking in any kind of poise. But as I say, I
do begin to feel sorry for her. She is blun-dering
about like a daddy long-legs in lamp-light.
She has no idea of what weapons to
use. Bad temper, bad manners, childish rude-ness
all things which have a most unfortu-nate
effect unon a man lilro Nloxr;!o"


Thomas said quietly:
"I think Audrey is the one who is in a
difficult position."
Lady Tressilian gave a sharp glance.
"You've always been in love with Audrey,
haven't you, Thomas?"
His reply was quite impe:rmrbable.
"Suppose I have."
"Practically from the tie you were children
together?"
He nodded.
"And then Nevile came along and carried
her off from under your nose?"
He moved uneasily in his chair.
"Oh, well---I always laew I hadn't a
chance."
"Defeatist," said Lady T'ressilian.
"I always have been a doll dog."
"Dobbin?
"Good old Thomas! .that's what Audrey
feels about me."
"'True Thomas,'" said Lady Tressilian.
"That was your nickname, wasn't it?"
He smiled as the words brought back
memories of childish days.
"Funny! I haven't heard that for years."
"It might stand you in good stead now,"
-id 1 .adv Tressilian.


She met his glance clearly and deliber-ately.

"Fidelity," she said, "is a quality that any-one
who has been through Audrey's experi-ence
might appreciate. The doglike devotion
of a lifetime, Thomas, does sometimes get its
reward."

Thomas Royde looked down, his fingers
fumbled with a pipe.

"That," he said, "is what I came home
hoping."


IV


"So here we all are," said Mary Aldin.

Hurstall, the old butler, wiped his fore-head.
When he went into the kitchen, Mrs.
Spicer, the cook, remarked upon his expres-sion.

"I don't think I can be well and that's the
truth," said Hurstall. "If I can so express
myself, everything that's said and done in
this house lately seems to me to mean some-thing
that's different from what it sounds
like if you know what I mean?"

Mrs. Spicer did not seem to know what he
meant, so Hurstall went on:

"Miss Aldin, now, as they all sat down to


dinner she says 'So here we all are' and
just that gave me a turn! Made me think of a
trainer who's got a lot of wild animals into
a cage, and then the cage door shuts. I felt,
all of a sudden, as though we were all caught
in a trap."

"Law, Mr. Hurstall," said Mrs. Spicer.
"You must have eaten something that's
disagreed."

"It's not my digestion. It's the way every-one's
strung up. The front door banged just
now and Mrs. Strange our Mrs. Strange,
Miss Audrey she jumped as though she had
been shot. And there's the silences, too. Very
queer they are. It's as though, all of a sud-den,
everybody's afraid to speak. And then
they all break out at once just saying the
things that first come into their heads."

"Enough to make anyone embarrassed,"
said Mrs. Spicer. "Two Mrs. Stranges in the
house. What I feel is, it isn't decent."

In the dining room, one of those silences
that Hurstall had described was proceeding.

It was with quite an effort that Mary Aldin
turned to Kay and said:

"I asked your friend, Mr. Latimer, to dine
tomorrow night!"

"Oh, good," said Kay.

Nevile said:


"Latimer? Is he down here?"

"He's staying at the Easterhead Bay

Hotel," said Kay.

Nevile said:

"We might go over and dine there one

night. How late does the ferry go?"

"Until half past one," said Mary.

"I suppose they dance there in the
evenings?"

"Most of the people are about a hundred,"
said Kay.

"Not very amusing for your friend," said
Nevile to Kay.

Mary said quickly:

"We might go over and bathe one day at
Easterhead Bay. It's quite warm still and it's
a lovely sandy beach."

Thomas Royde said in a low voice to
Audrey:

"I thought of going out sailing tomorrow.

Will you come?"

"I'd like to."

"We might all go sailing," said Nevile.

"I thought you said you were going to
play golf," said Kay.

"I did think of going over to the links.
I was right off my wooden shots the other
day."


	Nevile said Rood huna,o, redly:

	"Golf's a tric game.
			a

kea Cay

	"Yes--after fashion.

	Nevile said:
	"Kay woulct be very good if she to, ok a

little trouble. le's got natural swing.

	Kay said ta ]udrey:

	"You don't olay any games, do you?"

	"Not reallyri play tetmis after a fashion

	but I'm a cortholete rablit."

	"Do you 01 play me pxano, Audrey?"

asked Thoma..

	She shook lhtr head.

	"Not nowaxdays."

	"You usel to play rather well," said

	Nevile.

	"I thought: you didn't like music, Nevile,"

	said Kay.

	"I don't lc0w much about it," said Nevile

	vaguely. "I ways v0ndered how Audrey

	managed to setch a octave, her hands are

	so small."

	He was l%g at them as she laid down

	her dessert ,fe and fork.

		She flushehd a little sad said quickly:

		"I've got very long little finger. I expect

	that helps."
	· ,..
	, ---,eh thon "-qald Kay-"If


you're unselfish you have a short little
finger."

"Is that true?" asked Mary Aldin. "Then
I must be unselfish. Look, my little fingers
are quite short."

"I think you are very unselfish," said
Thomas Royde, eyeing her thoughtfully.

She went red and continued, quickly:
"Who's the most unselfish of us? Let's
compare little fingers. Mine are shorter than
yours, Kay. But Thomas, I think, beats me."

"I beat you both," said Nevile. "Look,"
he stretched out a hand.

"Only one hand, though," said Kay.
"Your left hand little finger is short but your
right hand one is much longer. And your left
hand is what you are born with and the right
hand is what you make of your life. So that
means that you were born unselfish but have
become much more selfish as time goes on."

"Can you tell forumes, Kay?" asked Mary
Aldin. She stretched out her hand, palm
upwards. "A fortune teller told me I should
have two husbands and three children. I shall

have to hurry up!"

Kay said:

"Those little crosses aren't children,
they're journeys. That means you'll take three
ioumevs across water."


"That seems uilikely, too," said Mary
Aldin.

Thomas Royde asked her:
"Have you traveled much?"
"No, hardly at all."

He heard an undercurrent of regret in her
voice.

"You would like to?"
"Above everything."
He thought in his slow
her life. Always in attendance on an old
woman. Calm, tactful, an excellent manager.


reflective way of


He asked curiously:

"Have you rived
long?"


"For nearly fifteen years. I came to be
with her after my father died. He had been a
helpless invalid for some years before his
death."

And then, answering the question she felt
to be in his mind:

"I'm thirty-six. That's what you wanted to
know, wasn't it?"

"I did wonder," he admitted. "You might


be any age, you see.

"That's rather a two-edged remark!"

"I suppose it is. I didn't mean it that
way."

That .nmher thnllehtfifi ffaze of his did


with Lady Tressilian


not leave her face. She did not find it em-barrassing.
It was too free from self-consciousness
for that a genuine thoughtful
interest. Seeing his eyes on her hair, she put
her hand to the one white lock.

"I've had that," she said, "since I was
very young."

"I like it," said Thomas Royde simply.
He went on looking at her. She said at
last, in a slightly amused tone of voice, "Well,
what is the verdict?"

He reddened under his tan.

"Oh, I suppose it is rude of me to stare. I
was wondering about you what you are re-ally
like."

"Please," she said hurriedly and rose from
the table. She said as she went into the draw-ing
room with her arm through Audrey's:

"Old Mr. Treves is coming to dinner to-morrow,
too."

"Who's he?" asked Nevile.

"He brought an introduction from the
Rufus Lords. A delightful old gentleman.
He's staying at the Balmoral Court. He's got
a weak heart and looks very frail, but his
faculties are perfect and he has known a lot
of interesting people. He was a solicitor or a
barrister I forget which."


"Everybody down here is terribly old,"
said Kay discontentedly.
She was standing just under a tall lamp.
Thomas was looking that way, and he gave
her that same slow interested attention that
he gave to anything that was immediately
occupying his line of vision.
He was struck suddenly with her intense
and passionate beauty. A beauty of vivid
coloring, of abundant and triumphant vitality.
He looked across from her to Audrey,
pale and motblike in a silvery grey dress.
He smiled to himself and murmured:
"Rose Red and Snow White."
"What?" It was Mary Aldin at his elbow.
He repeated the words. "Like the old fairy
story, you know--"
Mary Aldin said:

"It's a very good description...."

V

Mr. Treves sipped his glass of port appreciatively.
A very nice wine. And an excellently
cooked and served dinner. Clearly Lady
Tressilian had no difficulties with her servants.



The house was well managed, too, in spite
of the mistress of it being an invalid.
A pity, perhaps, that the ladies did not
leave the dining room when the port went
round. He preferred the old-fashioned routine
But these young people had their own
ways.

His eyes rested thoughtfully on that brilliant
and beautiful young woman who was

the wife of Nevile Strange.
It was Kay's night tonight. Her vivid
beauty glowed and shone in the candlelit
room. Beside her, Ted Latimer's sleek dark
head bent to hers. He was playing up to her.
She felt triumphant and sure of herself.
The mere sight of such radiant vitality
warmed Mr. Treves' old bones.
Youth there was really nothing like
youth!
No wonder the husband had lost his head
and left his first wife. Audrey was sitting
next to him. A charming creature and a lady
but then that was the kind of woman who
invariably did get left, in Mr. Treves' experience.

He glanced at her. Her head had been
down and she was staring at her plate. Something
in the complete immobility of her
attitude struck Mr. Treves. He looked at


"Everybody down here is terribly old,"
said Kay discontentedly.
She was standing just under a tall lamp.
Thomas was looking that way, and he gave
her that same slow interested attention that
he gave to anything that was immediately
occupying his line of vision.
He was struck suddenly with her intense
and passionate beauty. A beauty of vivid
coloring, of abundant and triumphant vitality.
He looked across from her to Audrey,
pale and mothlike in a silvery grey dress.
He smiled to himself and murmured:
"Rose Red and Snow White."
"What?" It was Mary Aldin at his elbow.
He repeated the words. "Like the old fairy
story, you know "
Mary Aldin said:

"It's a very good description... ."

V

Mr. Treves sipped his glass of port appreciatively.
A very nice wine. And an excellently
cooked and served dinner. Clearly Lady
Tressilian had no difficulties with her servants.



The house was well managed, too, in spite
of the mistress of it being an invalid.
A pity, perhaps, that the ladies did not
leave the dining room when the port went
round. He preferred the old-fashioned routine
But these young people had their own
ways.
His eyes rested thoughtfully on that brilliant
and beautiful young woman who was
the wife of Nevile Strange.
It was Kay's night tonight. Her vivid
beauty glowed and shone in the candle[it
room. Beside her, Ted Latimer's sleek dark
head bent to hers. He was playing up to her.
She felt triumphant and sure of herself.
The mere sight of such radiant vitality
warmed Mr. Treves' old bones.
Youth there was really nothing like
youth!
No wonder the husband had lost his 'head
and left his first wife. Audrey was sitting
next to him. A charming creature and a lady
but then that was the kind of woman who
invariably did get left, in Mr. Treves' experience.

He glanced at her. Her head had been
down and she was staring at her plate. Something
in the complete immobility of her
attitude struck Mr. Treves. He looked at


her more keenly. He wondered what she was
thinking about. Charming the way the hair
sprang up from that small shell-like ear ....
With a little start, Mr. Treves came to
himself as he realized that a move was being
made. He got hurriedly to his feet.
In the drawing room, Kay Strange went
straight to the gramophone and put on a
record of dance music.
Mary Aldin said apologetically to Mr.
Treves:
"I'm sure you hate jazz."
"Not at all," said Mr. Treves untmly but politely.
"Later, perhaps, we might have some
bridge?" she suggested. "But it is no good
starting a rubber now, as I know Lady Tressilian
is looking forward to having a chat
with you."
"That will be delightful. Lady Tressilian
never joins you down here?"
"No, she used to come down in an invalid
chair. That is why we had a lift put in. But
nowadays she prefers her own room. There
she can talk to whomsoever she likes, summoning
them by a kind of Royal Command."
"Very aptly put, Miss Aldin. I am always
sensible of the royal touch in Lady Tressilian's
manner."


In the middle of the room, Kay was mov-

ing in a slow dance step.
She said:
"Just take that table out of the way,
Nevile."
Her voice was autocratic, assured. Her eyes
were shining, her lips parted.
Nevile obediently moved the table. Then
he took a step towards her, but she turned
deliberately towards Ted Latimer.
"Come on, Ted, let's dance."
Ted's arm went round her immediately.
They danced, swaying, bending, their steps
perfectly together. It was a lovely performance
to watch.
Mr. Treves murmured:
"Er quite professional."
Mary Aldin winced slightly at the word
yet surely Mr. Treves had spoken in simple
admiration. She looked at his little wise nutcracker
face. It bore, she thought, an absentminded
look as though he were following
some train of thought of his own.
Nevile stood hesitating a minute, then he
walked to where Audrey was standing by the
window.
"Dance, Audrey?"
His tone was formal, almost cold. Mere
politeness, you might have said, inspired his


request. Audrey Strange hesitated a minute
before nodding her head and taking a step
towards him.

Mary Aldin made some commonplace re-marks
to which Mr. Treves did not reply.
He had so far shown no signs of deafness
and his courtesy was punctilious she real-ized
that it was absorption that hdd him
aloof. She could not quite make out if he
was watching the dancers, or was staring
across the room at Thomas Royde standing
alone at the other end.

With a little start Mr. Treves said:

"Excuse me, my dear lady, you were
saying?"

"Nothing. Only that it was an unusually
frae September."

"Yes, indeed rain is badly needed lo-cally,
so they tell me at my hotel."

"You are comfortable there, I hope?"

"Oh, yes, though I must say I was vexed

when I arrived to find "

Mr. Treves broke off.

Audrey had disengaged herself from
Nevile.. She said with an apologetic little
laugh:

"It's really too hot to dance."

She went towards the open window and
out onto the terrace.


"Oh! go after her, you fool," murmured
Mary. She meant the remark to be under her
breath, but it was loud enough for Mr. Treves
to mm and stare at her in astonishment.

reddened and gave an embarrassed


She
laugh.

"i'm


speaking my thoughts aloud," she
said ruefully. "But really he does irritate me
so. He's sos/ow."

"Mr. Strange?"

"Oh, no, not Nevile. Thomas Royde."
Thomas Royde was just preparing to
move forward, but by now Nevile, after a
moment's pause, had followed Audrey out of
the window.

For a moment Mr. Treves' eye, interest-edly
speculative, rested on the window, then
his attention returned to the dancers.

	"A beautiful dancer, young Mr.
	Latimer,

did you say the name was?"

	"Yes, Edward Latimer."

"Ah, yes, Edward Latimer. An old friend,


I gather, of Mrs. Strange?"

"Yes."

"And what does this very


er decorative


young gentleman do for a living?"
"Well, really, I don't quite know."
"In-deed," said Mr. Treves, managing to


put a good deal of comprehension into one
harmless word.

Mary went on:

"He is staying at the Easterhead Bay
Hotel."

"A very pleasant situation," said Mr.
Treves.

He added dreamily after a moment or two:
"Rather an interesting-shaped head a curi-ous
angle from the crown to the neck
rendered less noticeable by the way he has
his hair cut, but distinctly unusual." After
another pause, he went on, still more dream-ily:
"The last man I saw with a head like
that got ten years' penal servitude for a bru-tal
assault on an elderly jeweler."

"Surely," exclaimed Mary, "you don't
mean

"Not at all, not at all," said Mr. Treves.
"You mistake me entirely. I am suggesting
no disparagement of a guest of yours. I was
merely pointing out that a hardened and
brutal criminal can be in appearance a most
charming and personable young man. Odd,
but so it is."

He smiled gently at her. Mary said: "You
know, Mr. Treves, I think I am a little
frightened of you."


"But I am. You are such a very shrewd
observer."
"My eyes," said Mr. Treves complacently,
"are as good as ever they were." He paused
and added: "Whether that is fortunat, e or
unfortunate, I cannot at the moment decde."

"How could it be unfortunate?"
Mr. Treves shook his head doubtfully.
"One is sometimes placed in a position
of responsibility. The right course of action

is not always easy to determine."
Hurstall entered bearing the coffee tray.
After taking it to Mary and the old lawyer,
he went down the room to Thomas
Royde. Then, by Mary's directions, he put
the tray down on a low table and left the
room.

Kay called over Ted's shoulder, "We'll
finish out this tune."
Mary said: "I'll take Audrey's out to her."
She went to the French windows, cup in
hand. Mr. Treves accompanied her. As she
paused on the threshold he looked out over
her shoulder.
Audrey was sitting on the corner of the
balustrade. In the bright moonlight, her
beauty came to life a beauty born of line
rather than color. The exquisite line from


mouth, and the really lovely bones of the
head and the small straight nose. That beauty
would be there when Audrey Strange was
an old woman it had nothing to do with
the covering flesh it was the bones them-selves
that were beautiful. The sequined dress
she wore accentuated the effect of the moon-light.
She sat very still and Nevile Strange
stood and looked at her.

Nevile took a step towards her:
"Audrey," he said, "you "

She shifted her position, then sprang
lightly to her feet and clapped a hand to her


ear:

"Oh! My earring I must have dropped
it."

"Where? Let me look "

They both bent down, awkward and em-barrassed
and collided in doing so. Audrey
sprang away, and Nevile exclaimed:

"Wait a sec my cuff button it's caught
in your hair. Stand still."

She stood quite still as he fumbled with
the button. "0o you're pulling it out by
the roots how clumsy you are, Nevile, do
be quick."

"Sorry I I seem to be all thumbs."

The moonlight was bright enough for the
two onlcke to .ee what Audrey could not


see, the trembling of Nevile's .hands as. he
strove to free the strand of fair silvery haxr.


But Audrey herself was trembling too as


though suddenly cold.

Mary Aldin jumped as a quiet voice said
behind her:

"Excuse me "

Thomas Royde passed between them and


out.


"Shall I do that, Strange?" he asked.

Nevile straightened up and he and Audrey
moved apart.

"It's all right. I've done it."

Nevile's face was rather white.

"You're cold," said Thomas to Audrey.
"Come in and have coffee."

She came back with him and Nevile turned
away staring out to sea.

"I was bringing it out to you," said .Mary.
"But perhaps you'd better come in."

"Yes," said Audrey. "I think I'd better
come in."

They all went back into the drawing room.
Ted and Kay had stopped dancing.

The door opened and a tall gaunt woman
dressed in black came in. She said respect-fully:

"Her ladyship's compliments and she


would be glad to see Mr. Treves up in her

VI

Lady Tressilian received Mr. Treves with
evident pleasure.
He and she were soon deep in an agree.
able flood of reminiscences and a recalling of
mutual acquaintances.
At the end of half an hour Lady Tressilian
gave a deep sigh of satisfaction.
"Ah," she said, "I've enjoyed myself.
There's nothing like exchanging gossip and
remembering old scandals."
"A little malice," agreed Mr. Treves,
"adds a certain savor to life."
"By the way," said Lady Tressilian, "what
do you think of our example of the eternal
Mangle?"
Mr. Treves looked discreetly blank.
"Er---what triangle?"
"Don't tell me you haven't noticed it!
Nevile and his wives."
"Oh, that! The present Mrs. Strange is a
singularly attractive young woman."

"So is Audrey," said Lady Tressilian.


"She has charm yes."


Lady Tressilian exclaimed:

"Do you mean to tell me you can.under-stand
a man leaving Audrey, who s a--a

person of rare quality for for a Kay?"
Mr. Treves replied calmly:
"Perfectly. It happens frequently."
"Disgusting. I should soon grow fired of
Kay if I were a man and wish I had never
made such a fool of myself!"

"That also happens frequently. These
sudden passionate infatuations," said Mr.
Treves, looking very passionless and precise
himself, "are seldom of long duration."

"And then what happens?" demanded
Lady Tressilian.

"Usually," said Mr. Treves, "the er
parties adjust themselves. Quite often there
is a second divorce. The man then marries a
third party someone of a sympathetic
nature."

"Nonsense! Nevile isn't a Mormon what-ever
some of your clients may be!"

"The remarriage of the original parties
occasionally takes place."

Lady Tressilian shook her head.

"That, no/Audrey has too much pride."


"I am sure of it. Do not shake your head
in that aggravating fashion!"

"It has been my experience," said Mr.
Treves, "that women possess little or no
pride where love affairs are concerned. Pride
is a quality often on their lips, but not appar-ent
in their actions."

"You don't understand Audrey. She was
violently in love with Nevile. Too much so,
perhaps. After he left her for this girl (though
I don't blame him entirely the girl pur-sued
him everywhere and you know what

men are!) she never wanted to see him again."
Mr. Treves coughed gently.

"And yet," he said, "she is here!"

"Oh, well," said Lady Tressilian, annoyed.
"I don't profess to understand these modem
ideas. I imagine that Audrey is here just to
show that she doesn't care, and that it doesn't
matter!"

"Very likely," Mr. Treves stroked his
jaw. "She can put it to herself that way,
certainly."

"You mean," said Lady Tressilian, "that
you think she is still hankering after Nevile
and that oh, no.t I won't believe such a
thing!"

"It could be" said Mr. Treves.


"I won't have it," said Lady Tressilian. "I
won't have it in my house."
"You are already disturbed, are you not?"
asked Mr. Treves shrewdly. "There is tension.
I have felt it in the atmosphere."
"So you feel it too?" said Lady Tressilian
sharply.
"Yes, I am puzzled, I must confess. The
true feelings of the parties remain obscure,
but in my opinion, there is gunpowder about.
The explosion may come any minute."
"Stop talking like Guy Fawkes and tell me
what to do," said Lady Tressilian.
Mr. Treves held up his hands.
"Really, I am at a loss to know what to
suggest.-There is, I feel sure, a focal point.
If we could isolate that but there is so much
that remains obscure."
"I have no intention of asking Audrey to
leave," said Lady Tressilian. "As far as my
observation goes, she has behaved perfectly
in a very difficult situation. She has been
courteous but aloof. I consider her conduct
irreproachable."
"Oh, quite," said Mr. Treves. "Quite. But
it's having a most marked effect on young
Nevile Strange all the same."
"Nevile," said Lady Tressilian, "is not
behaving well. I shall speak to him about it.


But I couldn't mm him out of the house for
a moment. Matthew regarded him as practically
his adopted son."
"I know."
Lady Tressilian sighed. She said in a lowered
voice:
"You know that Matthew was drowned
here?"
"Yes."
"So many people have been sm'prised at
my remaining here. Stupid of them. I have
always felt Matthew near to me here. The
whole house is full of him. I should feel
lonely and strange anywhere else." She
paused and went on. "I hoped at first that it
might not be very long before I joined him.
Especially when my health began to fail. But
it seems I am one of these creaking gates ..
these perpetual invalids who never die." She
thumped her pillow angrily.
"It doesn't please me, I can tell you! I
always hoped that when my time came, it
would come quickly that I should meet
Death face to face not feel him creeping
along beside me, always at my shoulder
gradually forcing me to sink to one indignity
after another of illness. Increased helplessness
increasing dependence on other


"But very devoted people, I am sure. You
have a faithfifi maid?"
"Barrett? The one who brought you up?
The comfort of my life! A grim old battleax,
absolutely devoted. She's been with me for
years."
"And you are lucky, I should say, in having
Miss Aldin."
"You are right. I am lucky in having
Mary."
"She is a relation?"
"A distant cousin. One of those selfless
creatures whose lives are continually being
sacrificed to those of other people. She looked
after her father a clever man but terribly
exacting. When he died I begged her to make
her home with me and I have blessed the
day she came to me. You've no idea what
horrors most companions are. Futile boring
creatures. Driving one mad with their inanity.
They are companions because they are
fit for nothing better. To have Mary, who is a well-read intelligent woman, is marvelous.

She. has really a first-class brain a man's
brain She has read widely and deeply and
there is nothing she cannot discuss. And she
is as clever domestically as she is intellectually.
She runs the house perfectly and keeps
1
	,,,...,,....4- 1 11'


"It's a long time from that ..only half past
ten," said Nevile. "They don't lock you out,
I hope?"

"Oh, no. In fact I doubt if the door is
locked at all at night. It is shut at nine
o'clock but one has only to turn the handle
and walk in. People seem very haphazard
down here, but I suppose they are justified
in trusting to the honesty of the local people."

"Certainly no one locks their door in the
day time here," said Mary. "Ours stands
wide open all day long but we do lock it
up at night."

"What's the Balmoral Court like?" asked
Ted Latimer. "It looks a queer High Victo-rian
atrocity of a building."

"It lives up to its name," said Mr. Treves.
"And has good solid Victorian comfort. Good
beds, good cooking roomy Victorian ward-robes.
Immense baths with mahogany
surrounds."

"Weren't you saying that you were an-noyed
about something at first?" asked Mary.

"Ah, yes. I had carefully reserved by letter
two rooms on the ground floor. I have a
weak heart, you know, and stairs are forbid-den
me. When I arrived I was vexed to fred
the rooms were not available. Instead I was
allotted two rooms (very pleasant rooms I


11/I


must admit) on the top floor. I protested,
but it seems that an old resident who had
been going to Scotland this month, was ill

and had been unable to vacate the rooms."
"Mrs. Lucan, I expect," said Mary.

"I believe that is the name. Under the
circumstances, I had to make the best of
things. Fortunately there is a good automatic
lift so that I have really suffered no incon-venience.''

Kay said:

"Ted, why don't you come and stay at the
Balmoral Court? You'd be much more acces-sible.''

"Oh, I don't think it looks my kind of
place."

"Quite right, Mr. Latimer," said Mr.
Treves. "It would not be at all in your line
of country."

For some reason or other Ted Latimer
flushed.

"I don't know what you mean by that,"
he said.

Mary Aldin, sensing constraint, hurriedly
made a remark about a case in the paper.

"I see they've detained a man in the
Kentish Town trunk case "she said.

"It's the second man they've detained,"


said Nevile. "I hope they've got the right
one this time."

"They may not be able to hold him even
if he is," said Mr. Treves.

"Insufficient evidence?" asked Royde.
"Yes."

"Still," said Kay, "I suppose they always
get the evidence in the end."

"Not always, Mrs. Strange. You'd be
surprised if you knew how many of the peo-ple
who have committed crimes are walking
about the country free and unmolested."

"Because they've never been found out,
you mean ?"

"Not that only. There is a man" he men-tioned
a celebrated case of two years back

"the police know who committed those
child murders know it without a shadow of
doubt but they are powerless. The man has
been given an alibi by two people and though
that alibi is false there is no proving it to be

so. Therefore the murderer goes free."
"How dreadful," said Mary.

Thomas Royde knocked out his pipe and
said in his quiet reflective voice, "That con-fa'ms
what I have always thought that there
are times when one is justified in taking the
law into one's own hands."

"Wht dn vnu mean. Mr. Rovde?"


Thomas began to reffil his pipe. He looked
thoughtfully down at his hands as he spoke
in jerky disconnected sentences.

"Suppose you knew--of a dirty piece of
work knew that the man who did it isn't
accountable to existing laws that he's im-mune
from punishment. Then I hold that

one is justified in executing sentence oneself."
Mr. Treves said warmly:

"A most pernicious doctrine, Mr. Royde!
Such an action would be quite unjustifiable!"

"Don't see it. I'm assuming, you know,
that the facts are proved--it's just that the
/aw is powerless!"

"Private action is still not to be excused."
Thomas smiled--a very gentle smile.

"I don't agree," he said. "If a man ought
to have his neck wrung I wouldn't mind
taking the responsibility of wringing it for
him!"

"And in turn would render yourself liable
to the law's penalties!"

Still smiling, Thomas said: "I'd have to be
careful, of course .... In fact one would
have to go in for a certain amount of low
cunning "


Audrey said in her clear voice:

"You'd be found out, Thomas."


"Matter of fact," said Thomas, "I don't
think I should."
"I knew a case once," began Mr. Treves
and stopped. He Sfid apologetically: "Criminology
is rather a hobby of mine, you know."
"Please go on," said Kay.
"I have had a fairly wide experience of
criminal cases," Sfid Mr. Treves. "Only a
few of them have held any real interest. Most
murderers have ben lamentably uninteresting
and very short,sighted. However! I could
tell you of one interesting example."
"Oh, do," said Kay. "I like murders."
Mr. Treves Sloke slowly, apparently
choosing his worqs with great deliberation
and care.

"The case concerned a child. I will not
mention that chiltt's age or sex. The facts
were as follows: Two children were playing
with bows and alrows. One child sent an
arrow through the other child in a vital spot
and death resultett. There was an inquest,
the surviving child was completely distraught
and the accident Was commiserated and sympathy expressed ft)r the unhappy author of
the deed."
He paused.
"Was that all?"

"That was all.

asked Ted Latimer.
A reerettable accident.


But there is, you see, another side to the
story. A farmer, some time previously, hap-pened
to have passed up a certain path in a


lously, "that it was not an accident that it
was intentional?"

"I don't know," said Mr. Treves. "I have
never known. But it was stated at the in-quest
that the children were unused to bows
and arrows and in consequence shot wildly
and ignorantly."

"And that was not so?"

"That, in the case of one of the children,
was certainly not so!"

"What did the farmer do?" said Audrey
breathlessly.

"He did nothing. Whether he acted rightly


or not, I have never been sure. It was the
future of a child that was at stake. A child,


he felt, ought to be given the benefit of a
doubt."

Audrey said:

"But you yourself have no doubt about
what really happened?"

Mr. Treves said gravely:


wood nearby. There, in a little clearing, he
had noticed a child practicing with a bow
and arrow."

He paused to let his meaning sink in.
"You mean," said Mary Aldin incredu

"Personally, I am of the opinion that it
was a particularly ingenious murder a mur-der
committed by a child and planned down

to every detail beforehand."
Ted Latimer asked:
"Was there a reason?"

"Oh, yes, there was a motive. Childish
teasings, unkind words, enough to foment

hatred. Children hate easily "

Mary exclaimed:

"But the deliberation of it."

Mr. Treves nodded.

"Yes, the deliberation of it was bad. A
child, keeping that murderous intention in
its heart, quietly practicing day after day
and then the final piece of acting the awk-ward
shooting the catastrophe, the pretense
of grief and despair. It was all incredible so
incredible that probably it would not have
been believed in court."

"What happened to to the child?" asked
Kay curiously.

"Its name was changed, I believe," said
Mr. Treves. "After the publicity of the in-quest
that was deemed advisable. That child
is a grown up person today somewhere in
the world. The question is, has it still got a
murderer's heart?"


"It is a long time ago, but I would recognize
my little murderer anywhere."
"Surely not," objected Royde.
"Oh, yes. There was a certain physical
pec.uliarity Well, I will not dwell on the
sublect. It is not a very pleasant one. I must
really be on my way home."
He rose.
Mary said, "You will have a drink f'trst?"
The drinks were on a table at the other
end of the room. Thomas Royde, who was
near them, stepped forward and took the
stopper out of the whisky decanter.
"A whisky and soda, Mr. Treves? Latimer,
what about you?"
Nevile said to Audrey in a low voice:
"It's a lovely evening. Come out for a
little."
She had been standing by the window
looking out at the moonlit terrace. He stepped
past her and stood outside, waiting. She
mined back into the room, shaking her head
quickly.
"No, I'm tired. I... I think I'll go to bed."
She crossed the room and went out. Kay
gave a wide yawn.
"I'm sleepy too. What about you Mary?"
"Yes, I think so. Good night, Mr. Treves.


"Good night, Miss Aldin. Good night,
Mrs. Strange."

"We'll be over for lunch tomorrow, Ted,"
said Kay. "We could bathe if it's still like

ths."

"Right. I'll be looking out for you. Good
night, Miss Aldin."

The two women left the room.

Ted Latimer said agreeably to Mr. Treves,
"I'm coming your way, sir. Down to the
ferry, so I pass the hotel."

"Thank you, Mr. Latimer. I shall be glad
of your escort."

Mr. Treves, although he had declared his
intention of departing, seemed in no hurry.
He sipped his drink with pleasant delibera-tion
and devoted himself to the task of ex-tracting
information from Thomas Royde as
to the conditions of life in Malaya.

Royde was monosyllabic in his answers.
The everyday details of existence might have
been secrets of national importance from the
difficulty with which they were dragged from
him. He seemed to be lost in some abstrac-tion
of his own, out of which he roused
himself with difficulty to reply to his ques-tioner.

Ted Latimer fidgeted. He looked bored,


Suddenly interrupting, he exclaimed, "I
nearly forgot. I brought Kay over some gaaophone
records she wanted. They're in. he
hall. I'll get them. Will you tell her about
them tomorrow, Royde?"
The other man nodded. Ted left the rooa.
"That young man has a restless nattare,"
murmured Mr. Treves.
Royde grunted without replyingl
"A friend, I think, of Mrs. Strange's?"
pursued the old lawyer.
"Of Kay Strange's," said Thomas.
Mr. Treves smiled.
"Yes," he said. "I meant that. He w'ottld
hardly be a friend of the first Mrs.

Strange."
,Royde said emphatically:
'No, he wouldn't."
Then, catching the other's quizzical eye,
he said, flushing a little, "What I -nean
iS- "
"Oh, I quite understood what you meant,
Mr. Roy&. You yourself are a friend of
Mrs. Audrey Strange, are you not?"
Thomas Royde slowly filled his pipe from
his tobacco pouch. His eyes bent to his task,
he said or rather mumbled:
"M. yes. More or less broueht uo to
"She must have been a very charming
young girl?"
Thomas Royde said something that
sounded like "Um-yum."
· ::"A little awkward having two Mrs.
Stranges in the house?"
"Oh, yes yes, rather."
"A difficult position for the original Mrs.
Strange."
Thomas Royde's face flushed.
"Extremely difficult."
Mr. Treves leaned forward. His question
popped out sharply.
"Why did she come, Mr. Royde?"
"Well I suppose ..." the other's voice was
indistinct, "she didn't like to refuse."
"To refuse whom?"
Royde shifted awkwardly.
"Well, as a matter of fact, I believe she
always comes this time of year beginning of
September."
"And Lady Tressilian asked Nevile Strange
and his new wife at the same time?" The old
gentleman's voice held a nice note of political

incredulity.
"As to
himself."
"He

that, I believe Nevile asked

was anxious, then, for this re
Royde shifted uneasily. He replied, avoid-
Ing the other's 'eye:
"I suppose so."
"Curious," said Mr. Treves.
"Stupid sort of thing to do," said Thomas
Royde, goaded into longer speech.
"Somewhat embarrassing, one would have
thought," said Mr. Treves.
"Oh, well people do do that sort of thing
nowadays," said Thomas Royde vaguely.
"I wonder," said Mr. Treves, "if it had
been anybody else's idea?"
Royde stared.
"rhose else's could it have been?"
Mr. Treves sighed.
"There are so many kind friends about in
the world always anxious to arrange other
people's lives for them--to suggest courses
of action that are not in harmony "He
broke off as Nevile Strange strolled back
throhgh the French window. At the same
moment Ted Latimer entered by the door
from the hall.
"Hullo, Ted, what have you got there?"
asked Nevile.
"Gramophone records for Kay. She asked
me to bring them over."
"Oh, did she? She didn't tell me." There
was just a moment of constraint between the


two, then Nvile strolled over to the drink

tray and hellaed himself to a whisky and
soda. His fate looked excited and unhappy

and he was 13eeathing deeply.
Someone in Mr. Treves' hearing had
referred to qevile as "that lucky beggar
Strange--got everything in the world anyone
could wish fqr." Yet he did not look, at this
moment, at ll a happy man.
Thomas loyde' with Nevile's reentry,
seemed to feel that his duties as host were

over. He left the room without attempting to say good fright and his walk was slightly
more hurriel than usual. It was almost an
escape.
"A delightful evening," said Mr. Treves
politely as he set down his glass. "Most ah instructive.,,
"Instructive?,, Nevile raised his eyebrows
slightly.
"Information re the Malay States," suggested
Ted, smiling broadly. "Hard work
dragging answers out of Taciturn Thomas."

"Extraordixaary fellow, Royde," said Nevile.
"I believe he's always been the same.
Just smokes that awful old pipe of his and
listens and sss Um and Ah occasionally and
looks wise lille an owl."

"Perhaps he thinks the more," said Mr.


Treves. "And now I really must take my
leave."

"Come and see Lady Tressilian again
soon," said Nevile as he accompanied the
two men to the hall. "You cheer her up
enormously. She has so few contacts now
with the outside world. She's wonderful, isn't
she?"

"Yes, indeed. A most stimulating conver-sationalist.''

Mr. Treves dressed himself carefully with
overcoat and muffler and after renewed good
nights, he and Ted Latimer set out together.

The Balmoral Court was actually only
about a hundred yards away, around one
curve of the road. It loomed up prim and
forbidding, the first outpost of the straggling
country street.

The ferry, for which Ted Latimer was
bound, was two or three hundred yards fur-ther
down, at a point where the river was at
its narrowest.

Mr. Treves stopped at the door of the
Balmoral Court and held out his hand.

"Good night, Mr. Latimer. You are stay-ing
down here much longer?"

Ted smiled with a flash of white teeth.

"That depends, Mr. Treves. I haven't had
time to be bored yet."


"No no, so I should imagine. I suppose
like most young people nowadays, boredom
is what you dread most in the world, and
yet, I can assure you, there are worse things."
"Such as?"
Ted Latimer's voice was soft and pleasant,
but it held an undercurrent of something
else something not quite so easy to de£me,
"Oh, I leave it to your imagination, Mr.
Latimer. I would not presume to give you
advice, you know. The advice of such elderly
fogeys as myself is invariably treated
with scorn. Rightly, perhaps, who knows?
But we old buffers like to think that experience
has taught us something. We have noticed
a good deal, you know, in the course of
a lifetime."
A cloud had come over the face of the
moon. The street was very dark. Out of the
darkness, a man's figure came towards them
walking up the hill.
It was Thomas Royde.
"Just been down to the ferry for a bit of a
walk," he said indistinctly because of the
pipe clenched between his teeth.
"This your pub?" he asked Mr. Treves.
"Looks as though you were locked out."
"Oh, I don't think so," said Mr. Treves.


He turned the big brass door knob and
the door swung back.

"We'll see you safely in," said Royde.
The three of them entered the hall. It
was dimly lit with only one electric light.
There was no one to be seen, and an odor of
bygone dinner, rather dusty velvet, and good
furniture polish met their nostrils.

Suddenly Mr. Treves gave an exclamation
of annoyance.

On the lift in front of them hung a notice:


LIFT OUT OF ORDER


"Dear me," said Mr. Treves. "How ex-tremely
vexing. I shall have to walk up those

stairs."

"Too bad," said Royde. "Isn't there a
service lift luggage all that?"

"I'm afraid not. This one is used for all


purposes. Well, I must take it slowly, that is
all. Good night to you both."

He started slowly up the wide staircase.
Royde and Latimer wished him good night,
then let themselves out into the dark street.

There was a moment's pause, then Royde
said abruptly:

"Well, good night."

"Good night. See you tomorrow."


Ted Latimer strode lightly down the hill
towards the ferry. Thomas Royde stood look-ing
after him for a moment, then he walked
slowly in the opposite direction towards Gull's
Point.

The moon came out from behind the cloud
and Saltcreek was once more bathed in sil-very
radiance.


VII


"Just like summer," murmured Mary Aldin.

She and Audrey were sitting on the beach
just below the imposing edifice of the Eas-terhead
Bay Hotel. Audrey wore a white
swim suit and looked like a delicate ivory
figurine. Mary had not bathed. A little way
along from them Kay lay on her face, expos-ing
her bronzed limbs and back to the sun.

"Ugh," she sat up. ?he water's horribly
cold," she said accusingly.

"Oh, well, it/s September," said Mary.
"It's always cold in England," said Kay
discontentedly. "How I wish we were in the
south of France. That really is hot."

Ted Latimer from beyond her murmured:
"This sun here isn't a real sun."


"Aren't you going in at all, Mr. Latimer?"
asked Mary.

Kay laughed.

"Ted never goes in the water. Just suns
himself like a lizard."

She stretched out a toe and prodded him.
He sprang up.

"Come and walk, Kay. I'm cold."

They went off together along the beach.

"Like a li7.ard? Rather an unfortunate

comparison," murmured Mary Aldin, look-ing
after them.

"Is that what you think of him?" asked
Audrey.

Mary Aldin frowned.

"Not quite. A li?ard suggests something
quite tame. I don't think he is tame."

"No," said Audrey thoughtfully. "I don't
think so either."

"How well they look together," said Mary,
watching the retreating pair. "They match


somehow, don't they?"
"I suppose they do."
"They like the same


things," went on
Mary. "And have the same opinions and
and use the same language. What a thousand

pities it is that "
She stopped.
Audrey said sharply:


"That what?"
Mary said slowly:
"I suppose I was going to say what a pity
it was that Nevile and she ever met."
Audrey sat up stiffly. What Mary called
to herself "Audrey's frozen look" had come
over her face. Mary said quickly:
"I'm sorry, Audrey. I shouldn't have said
that."
"I'd so much rather not talk about it if
you don't mind."
"Of course, of course. It was very stupid
of me. I I hoped you'd got over it, I
suppose."
Audrey turned her head slowly. With a
calm expressionless face she said:
"I assure you there is nothing to get
over. I .I have no feeling of any kind in
the matter. I hope I/.hope with all my
heart, that Kay and Nevile will always be

very happy together."
"Well, that's very nice of you, Audrey."
"It isn't nice. It is just tree. But I do
think it is well unprofitable to keep on
going back over the past. 'It's a pity this
happened or that?' It's all over now. Why
rake it up? We've got to go on living our
lives in the present."
"I ,,,,c" .aid Mary simtalv. "that


people like Kay and Ted are exciting to me

from


because
	well, they are so different

anything
	or anyone that I have ever


across.


"Yes, I suppose they are."


come


"Even you," said Mary with sudden bit-terness,
"have lived and had experiences that
I shall probably never have. I know you've
been unhappy very unhappy but I can't
help feeling that even that is better than
well nothing. Emptiness!"

She said the last word with a fierce em-phasis.

Audrey's wide eyes looked a little startled.
"I never dreamed you ever felt like that."
"Didn't you?" Mary Aldin laughed apol-ogetically.
"Oh, just a momentary fit of dis-content,
my dear. I didn't really mean it."

"It can't be very gay for you," said Audrey
Slowly. "Just living here with Camilla dear
thing though she is. Reading to her, manag-ing
the servants, never going away."

"I'm well fed and housed," said Mary.
"Thousands of women aren't even that. And
really, Audrey, I am quite contented. I have"

a smile played for a moment round her
lips "my private distractions."

"Secret vices?" asked Audrey, smiling also.
"Oh, I plan things," said Mary vaguely.


"In my mind, you know. And I like experimenting
sometimes upon people. Just seeing,
you know, if I can make them react to
what I say in the way I mean."
"You sound almost sadistic, Mary. How
little I really know you!"
"Oh, it's all quite harmless. Just a childish
little amusement."
Audrey asked curiously:
"Have you experimented on me?"
"No. You're the only person I have always
found quite incalculable. I never know, you
see, what you are thinking."
"Perhaps," said Audrey gravely, "that is just as well."

She shivered and Mary exclaimed:
"You're cold."
"Yes. I think I will go and dress. After
all, it is September."
Mary Aldin remained alone stating at the
reflection on the water. The tide was going
out. She stretched herself out on the sand
dosing her eyes.
They had had a good lunch at the hotd. It
was still quite full although it was past the
height of the season. A queer mixed-looking
lot of people. Oh, well, it had been a day
out. Something to break the monotony of


to get away from that sense of tension, that
stnmg-up atmosphere that there had been
lately at Gull's Point. It hadn't been Audrey's
fault, but Nevile
Her thoughts broke up abruptly as Ted
Latimer plumped himself down on the beach
beside her.
"What have you done with Kay?" Mary
asked.
Ted replied briefly:
"She's been claimed by her legal owner."
Something in his tone made Mary Aldin
sit up. She glanced across the stretch of shining
golden sands to where Nevile and Kay
were walking by the water's edge. Then she
glanced quickly at the man beside her.
She had thought of him as meretricious, as
queer, as dangerous, even. Now for the fa:st
time she got a glimpse .of someone young
and hurt. She thought:

"He was in love with Kay
with her and then Nevile
her away .... "
She said gently:
"I hope you are enjoying
here."
They were conventional
Aldin seldom used any

really in love
came and took

yourself down

words. Mary
words but con
her tone was an offer for the first time of
friendliness. Ted Latimer responded to it.
"As much, probably, as I should enjoy
myself anywhere!"
Mary said:
"i'm sorry."
"But you don't care a damn, really! I'm
an outsider and what does it matter what
outsiders feel and think?"
She turned her head to look at this bitter
and handsome young man.
He returned her look with one of deft-
ance.
She said slowly, as one who makes a di

Mary said with disamg sincerity:
"I wish you would tell me

reallv I wish

covery, "I see. You don't like us."
He laughed shortly. "Did you expect me
to?"
She said thoughtfully:
"I suppose, you know, that I did expect
just that One takes, of course, too much
for granted. One should be more humble.
Yes, it would not have occurred to me that
you would not like us. We have tried to
make you welcome as Kay's friend."
"Yes as Kay's friend!"
The interruption came with a quick
venom.


it just why you dislike us? What have we
done? What is wrong with us?"
Ted Latimer said, with a blistering emphasis
on the one word:
"Smug!"
"Smug?" Mary queried it without rancor,
examining the charge with judicial appraisement.

"Yes," she admitted. "I see that we could
seem like that."
"You are like that. You take all the good
things of life for granted. You're happy and
superior in your little roped-off enclosure shut
off from the common herd. You look at
people like me as though I were one of the
animals outside!"
"I'm sorry," said Mary.
"It's true, isn't it?"
"No, not quite. We are stupid, perhaps,

and tmimaginative but not malicious. I
myself am conventional and superficially,

I daresay, what you call smug. But really,
you know, I'm quite human inside. I'm very
sorry, this minute, because you are unhappy
and I wish I could do something about it."
"Well if that's so it's nice of you."

There was a pause, then Mary said gently:
"Have you always been in love with Kay?"


"And shehe?''
SO
"I thougl.h,t , until Strange came along.
, ia genuy:
', A n4 volOU're still m love with her?"
,,:';-.oCld think that was obvious."
I sn
After a r/moment or two, Mary said quietly:
	"I-IaAn't t you better go away from here?"
	,,'"'"7i.hould I?"
	,,,
;e you are omy letting yourself in
	tecau=
	'
	anhappiness."
for
more u,
	He
look¢:ed at. her and
laughed.
	,, ,re:a race creature," he said.
"But
	You
	.
	,A-,. :know much about
the ammals
you
oou
t
	.	.
	,.-- n
Ibout outside your little
enclosure.
pro.wtm
,- .,.	,	.
Qmte a lot t
oz
mings
may happen m me near

future."

	,,
	ort of
things?" said Mary
sharply.
	What
He lauge,a' ,,
"Wait aa
see.

VIII

When Aueclrey had dressed she
went along
th
'
	h and
out along a jutting point
of
	e
oea)..
Tho
	'
	. .:mng	mas Royde who
was s t-
	rocKs
lu'"	·	.	.
	-' --gere
smoking a ppe, exactly opposite
	tlni us
	.
	.
	.
	to
Gull's
IJ
°
m.
t
which
stood
white
and
serene

	....
,
--
..aos te
side
of
the
river.


Thomas turned his head at Audrey's approach,
but he did not move. She sat down
beside him without speaking. They were
silent with the comfortable silence of two
people who know each other very well in&ed.
"How near it looks," said Audrey at last,
breaking the silence.
Thomas looked across at Gull's Point.
"Yes, we could swim home."
"Not at this tide. There was a housemaid
Camilla had once. She was an enthusiastic
bather, used to swim across and back whenever
the ride was right. It has to be low
or high but when it's running out it sweeps
you fight down to the mouth of the river.
It did that to her one day only luckily she
	her head and
		ashore all

kept

				right

		caine

					on
Easter Point only very exhausted."

"It doesn't say anything about its being
dangerous here."
"It isn't this side. The current is the other
side. It's deep there under the cliffs. There
was a would-be suicide last year threw himself
off Stark Head but he got caught by a
tree halfway down the cliff and the coast
guards got to him all fight."
"Poor devil," said Thomas. "I bet he
didn't thank them. Must be sickenine to


have made up your mind to get out of it all
and then be saved. Makes a fellow feel a
fool."
"Perhaps he's glad now," suggested Audrey
dreamily.
"I wonder."
Thomas puffed away at his pipe. By turn-Lng
his head very slightly he could look at
Audrey. He noted her grave absorbed face
as she stared across the water. The long
brown lashes that rested on the pure line of
the cheek, the small shell-like ear
That reminded him of something.
"Oh, by the way, I've got your earring
the one you lost last night."
His fingers ddved into his pocket. Audrey
stretched out a hand.
"Oh, good, where did you find it? On the

terrace?"
"No. It
have lost it

was near the stairs. You must
as you came down to dinner. I
noticed you hadn't got it at dinner."
"I'm glad to have it back."
She took it. Thomas reflected that it was
rather a large barbaric earring for so small
an ear. The ones she had on today were
large, too.
He remarked:


"You wear your earrings even when you
bathe. Aren't you afraid of losing them?"

"Oh, these are very cheap things. I hate
being without earrings because of this."

She touched her left ear. Thomas remem-bered.
"Oh, yes, that time old Bouncer bit you?"
Audrey nodded.

They were silent, reliving a childish mem-ory.
Audrey Standish (as she then was), a
long spindle-legged child, putting her face
down on old Bouncer who had had a sore
paw. A nasty bite, he had given her. She had
had to have a stitch put in it. Not that there
was much to show now just the tiniest little

SCar.


"My dear girl," he said. "You can hardly
see the mark. Why do you mind?"

Audrey paused before answering with evi-dent
sincerity, "It's because because I just
can't bear a blemish."

Thomas nodded. It

knowledge of Audrey


perfection. She was in
finished an article.

He said suddenly:


fitted in with his
of her instinct for
herself so perfectly


"You're far more beautiful than Kay."
She turned qttickl¥.


"Oh, no, Thomas. Kay Kay is really
lovely."

"On the outside. Not underneath."

"Are you referring," said Audrey with faint
amusement, "to my beautiful soul?"

Thomas knocked out the ashes of his pipe.

"No," he said. "I think I mean your
bones."

Audrey laughed.

Thomas packed a new pipeful of tobacco.
They were silent for quite five minutes, but
Thomas glanced at Audrey more than once
though he did it so unobtrusively that she
was unaware of it.

He said at last quietly, "What's wrong,
Audrey?"

"Wrong? What do you mean by wrong?"
"Wrong with you. There's something."
"No, there's nothing. Nothing at all."


"But there is."

She shook her head.

"Won't you tell me?"

"There's nothing to tell."

"I suppose I'm being a chump


but I've
got to say it "He paused. "Audrey can't
you forget about it? Can't you let it all go?"

She dug her small hands convulsively into


tho rnclt


to


"You don't understand you can't begin
understand."

"But,Audrey, my dear, I do. That's just
it. I know."

She turned a small doubtful face to him.
"I know just exactly what you've been
through. And and what it must have meant
to you.

She was very white now, white to the lips.

"I see," she said. "I didn't think anyone
knew."

"Well, I do. I I'm not going to talk about
it. But what I want to impress upon you is

that it's all over it's past and done with."
She said in a low voice:
"Some things don't pass."

"Look here, Audrey, it's no good brood-ing
and remembering. Granted you've been
through hell. It does no good to go over
and over a thing in your mind. Look forward

not back. You're quite young. You've got
your life to live and most of that life is
in front of you. Think of tomorrow, not of
yesterday."

She looked at 'him with a steady, wide-eyed
gaze that was singularly unrevealing of
her real thoughts.

"And supposing," she said, "that I can't
do that."


"But you must."

Audrey said gently:

"I thought you didn't understand. I'm---I'm
not quite normal about some 'things, I
suppose."

He broke in roughly, "Rubbish. You--"
He stopped.

"I what?"

"I was thinking of you as you were when
you were a girl before you married Nevile.

Why did you marry Nevile?"

Audrey smiled.

"Because I fell in love with him."

"Yes, yes, I know that. But why did you
fall in love with him? What attracted you to
him so much?"

She crinkled her eyes as though trying to
see through the eyes of a girl now dead.

"I think," she said, "it was because he
was so 'positive.' He was so much the op-posite
of what I was, myself. I always felt
shadowy not quite real. Nevile was very
real. And so happy and sure of himself and
so everything that I was not." She added

with a smile: "And very good looking."
Thomas Royde said bitterly:

"Yes, the ideal Englishman good at
slaorts, modest, good looking alwnv. the.


ttle pukka sahib getting everything he


wanted all along the line."

Audrey sat very upright and stared at him.

"You hate him," she said slowly. "You
hate him very much, don't you?"

He avoided her eyes, turning away to cup
a match in his hands as he relit the pipe that
had gone out.

"Wouldn't be surprising if I did, would
it?" he said indistinctly. "He's got every-thing
that I haven't. He can play games, and
swim and dance, and talk. And I'm a tongue-fled
oaf with a crippled arm. He's always
been brilliant and successful and I've always
been a dull dog. And he married the only
girl I ever cared for."

She made a faint sound. He said savagely:

"You've always known that, haven't you?
You knew I cared about you ever since you


were fifteen. You know that I still care
She stopped him.


"No. Not now."

"What do you mean


not now?"


Audrey got up. She said in a quiet reflec-tive
voice:

"Because now I am different."
"Different in what way?"
l-le rt un too and stood facin her.


Audrey said in a quick, rathaer breathless
voice:
"If you don't know, I can't taell.you....
I'm not always sure myself. I only know '
She broke off and mining ab'uptly away,
she walked quickly back over te rocks towards
the hotel.
Turning a corner of the cliff, she came
across Nevile. He was lying full .length peering
into a rock pool. He lool<ed up and
grinned.
"Hullo, Audrey."
"Hullo, Nevile."
"I'm watching a crab. Awfully active little
beggar. Look, here he is."
She kndt down and stared Where he
pointed.
"See him?"
"Yes."
"Have a cigarette?"
She accepted one and he lighted it for her.
After a moment or two, during which she
did not look at him, he said nervously:

"I say, Audrey?"
"Yes."
"It's all right, isn't it? I mean
US."
"Yes. Yes, of course."

between

xao'ro frlenci. nnd all that."


l

"oh, es--yes, of course."
"I--I do want us to be frienls."
He looked at her anxiously. She gave him
a nervous'smile.
He said conversationally:
"It's been a jolly day, hasn't it? Weather
good and all that?"
"Oh, yesmyes."
"Quite hot really for September."
"Very."
There was a pause.
"Audrey "
She got up.
"Your wife wants you, sh.e's having to
you."
"XXZho.. oh, Kay."
"I said your wife."
He scrambled to .his feet and stod looking
at her.
He said in a very low voice:
"You're my wife, Audrey-....."
She turned away. Nevile rajah down on to
the beach and across the sand to join Kay.

IX

On their arrival back at Gull's I Point, Hurstall
came out into the hall and spoqoket0 Mary.


"Would you go up at once to her lady-ship,
Miss? She is feeling very upset and
wanted to see you as soon as you got in."

Mary hurried up the stairs. She found
Lady Tressilian looking white and shaken.

"Dear Mary, I am so glad you have come.
I am feeling most distressed. Poor Mr. Treves
is dead."

"Dead?"

"Yes, isn't it terrible? So sudden. Appar-ently
he didn't even get undressed last night.
He must have collapsed as soon as he got
home."

"Oh, dear, I am sorry."

"One knows, of course, that he was deli-cate.
A weak heart. I hope nothing happened
while he was here to overstrain it? There was
nothing indigestible for dinner?"

"I don't think so no, I am sure there
wasn't. He seemed quite well and in good
spirits."

"I am really very distressed. I wish, Mary,
that you would go to the Balmoral Court and
make a few inquiries of Mrs./Rogers. Ask
her if there is anything we can do? And then
the funeral. For Matthew's sake I would like
to do anything we could. These things are so
awkward at a hotel."

Mrv .roke firmlv.


"Dear Camilla, you really must not worry.

This has been a shock to you."

"Indeed it has."

"I will go to the Balmoral Court at once
and then come back and tell you all about
things."

"Thank you, Mary dear, you are always
so practical and understanding."

"Please try and rest now. A shock of this
kind is so bad for you."

Mary Aldin left the room and came down-stairs.
Entering the drawing room she ex-claimed:

"Old Mr. Treves is dead. He died last
night after returning home."

"Poor old boy," exclaimed Nevile. "What
was it?"

"Heart apparently. He collapsed as soon
as he got in."

Thomas Royde said thoughtfully:
"I wonder if the stairs did him in."
"Stairs?" Mary looked at him inquiringly.
"Yes. When Latimer and I left him, he
was just starting up. We told him to take it
slow."

Mary exclaimed:

"But how very foolish of him not to take
the lift."

"The lift was out of order."


"Oh, I see. How very unfortunate. Poor old man."
She added: "I am going round there now.
Camilla wants to know if there is anything
we can do."
Thomas said: "I'll come with you."
They walked together down the road and
round the corner to the Balmoral Court. Mary
remarked:
"I wonder if he has any relatives who
ought to be notified."
"He didn't mention anyone."
"No, and people usually do. They say 'my
niece,' or 'my cousin.'"
"Was he married?"
"I believe not."
They entered the open door of the Balmoral
Court.
Mrs. Rogers, the proprietress, was talking
to a tall middle-aged man, who raised a
friendly hand in greeting to Mary.
"Good afternoon, Miss Aldin."
"Good afternoon, Dr. Lazenby. This is
Mr. Royde. We came round with a message
from Lady Tressilian to know if there is
anything we can do."
"That's very kind of you, Miss Aldin,"
said the hotel proprietress. "Come into my
rnn'm nn't VI"ll}'


They all went into the small comfortable
sitting room and Dr. Lazenby said:

"Mr. Treves was dining at your place last

night, wasn't he?"

"Yes."

"How did he seem? Did he show any
signs of distress?"

"No, he seemed very well and cheerful."
The doctor nodded.

"Yes, that's the worst of these heart cases.
The end is nearly always sudden. I had a
look at his prescriptions upstairs and it seems
quite clear that he was in a very precarious
state of health. I shall commtmicate with his
London doctor, of course."

"He was very careful of himself always,"
said Mrs. Rogers. "And I'm sure he had
every care here we could give him."

"I'm sure of that, Mrs. Rogers," said the
doctor tactfully. "It was just some tiny addi-tional
strain, no doubt."

"Such as walking upstairs," suggested
Mary.

"Yes, that might do it. In fact almost


certainly would that is, if he ever walked
up those three flights but surely he never


did do anything of that kind?"

"Oh, no," said Mrs. Roeers. "He always


used the lift. Always. He was most particularo"
"I mean," said Mary, "that with the lift
being out of order last night "
fi/irs. Rogers was staring at her in surprise.
"But the lift wasn't out of order at all
yesterday, Miss Aldin."
Thomas Royde coughed.
"Excuse me," he said. "I came home with
Mr. Treves last night. There was a placard
on the lift saying 'Out of Order.'"
Nlrs. Rogers stared.
"Well, that's an odd thing. I'd have declared
there was nothing wrong with the lift
in fact I'm sure there wasn't. I'd have
heard about it if there was. We haven't had
anything go wrong with the lift (touching
wood) since oh, not for a good eighteen
months. Very reliable it is."
"Perhaps," suggested the doctor, "some
porter or hall boy put that notice up when
he was off duty?"
"It's an automatic lift, Doctor, it doesn't
need anyone to work it."
"Ah, yes, so it is. I was forgetting."
"I'll have a word with Joe," said Mrs.
Rogers. She bustled out of the room calling,
"Joe--Joe."

Dr. Lazenbv looked cnrinn.lv at Thnrnae


er

"Excuse me, you're quite sure, Mr.


"Royde," put in Mary.

"Quite sure," said Thomas.

Mrs. Rogers came back with the porter.


Joe was emphatic that nothing whatever had
been wrong with the lift on the preceding
night. There was such a placard as Thomas
had described but it was tucked away un-der
the desk and hadn't been used for over a
year.

They all looked at each other and agreed
it was a most mysterious thing. The doctor
suggested some practical joke on the part of
one of the hotel visitors, and perforce they
left it at that.

In reply to Mary's inquiries, Dr. Lazenby
explained that Mr. Treves' chauffeur had
given him the address of Mr. Treves' soli-citors,
and he was communicating with them
and that he would come round and see Lady
Tressilian and tell her what was going to be
done about the funeral.

Then the busy cheerful doctor hurried off
and Mary and Thomas walked slowly back

to Gull's Point.

Mary said:

"You're quite sure you saw that notice,
Thomas?"


"Both Latimer and I saw it."

"What an extraordinary thing!" said Mary.


X


It was the twelfth of September.

"Only two more days," said Mary Aldin.
Then she bit her lip and flushed.
Thomas Royde looked at her thoughtfully.
"Is that how you feel about it?"

"I don't know what's the matter with
me," said Mary. "Never in all my life have I
been so anxious for a visit to come to an end.
And usually we enjoy having Nevile so much.
And Audrey too."

Thomas nodded.

"But this time," went on Mary, "one feels
as though one were sitting on dynamite. At
any minute the whole thing may explode.
That's why I said to myself first thing this
morning: 'Only two days more.' Audrey goes
on Wednesday and Nevile and Kay on
Thursday."

"And I go on Friday," said Thomas.
"Oh, I'm not counting you. You've been a
tower of strength. I don't know what I should
have done without you."

"Thhrnan hnffer?"


"More than that. You've been so calm and
so so kind. That sounds rather ridiculous
but it really does express what I mean."

Thomas looked pleased though slightly
embarrassed.

"I don't know why we've all been so het
up," said Mary reflectively. "After all, if
there was an an outburst it would be awk-ward
and embarrassing, but nothing more."

"But there's been more to your feeling
than that."

"Oh, yes, there has. A de pounds ite feeling
of apprehension. Even the servants feel it.
The kitchenmaid burst into tears and gave
notice this morning for no reason at all.
The cook's jumpy Hurstall is all on edge
even Barrett who is usually as calm as a a
battleship has shown signs of nerves. And
all because Nevile had this ridiculous idea of
wanting his former and his present wife to
make friends and so soothe his own
conscience."

"In which ingenious idea he has singularly
failed," remarked Thomas.

"Yes. Kay is is getting quite beside her-self.
And really, Thomas, I can't help sym-pathizing
with her." She paused. "Did you
notice the way Nevile looked after Audrey
as she went up the stairs last night? He still


cares about her, Thomas. The whole ttng
has been the most tragic mistake."
Thomas started filling his pipe.
"He should have thought of that before,"
he said in a hard voice.
"Oh, I know. That's what one says. Buit
doesn't alter the fact that the whole thing is a
tragedy. I can't help feeling sorry for Nevile."
"People like Nevile--" began Thomas and
then stopped.
"Yes?"
"People like Nevile think that they can
always have everything their own way and
have everything they want, too. I don't suppose
Nevile has ever had a setback over
anything in his life till he came up against
this business of Audrey. Well, he's got it
now. He can't have Audrey. She's out of his
reach. No good his making a song and dance
about it. He's just got to lump it."
"I suppose you're quite right. But you do
sound hard. Audrey was so much in love
with Nevile when she married him and they
always got on together so well."
"Well, she's out of love with him now."
"I wonder," murmured Mary under 2her
breath.
Thomas was going on:
"And I'll tell you somethine else. Neile


had better look out for Kay. She's a danger-ous
kind of young woman really danger-ous.
If she got her temper up she'd stop at
nothing."

"Oh, dear," Mary sighed and, returning
to her original remark, said hopefully: "Well,
it's only two days more."

Things had been very difficult for the last
four or five days. The death of Mr. Treves
had given Lady Tressilian a shock which had
told adversely on her health. The funeral
had taken place in London for which Mary
was thankful, since it enabled the old lady to
take her mind off the sad event more quickly
than she might have been able to do other-wise.
The domestic side of the household
had been nervy and difficult and Mary really
felt tired and dispirited this morning.

"It's partly the weather," she said aloud.
"It's unnatural."

It had indeed been an unusually hot and
fine spell for September. On several days the
thermometer had registered 70 in the shade.

Nevile strolled out of the house and joined
them as she spoke.

"Blaming the weather?" he asked with a
glance up at the sky. "It is rather incredible.
Hotter than ever today. And no wind. Makes
one feel jumpy somehow. However I think


we'll get rain before very long. Today is just
a bit too tropical to last."
Thomas Royde had moved very gently and
aimlessly away and now disappeared round
the corner of the house.
"Departure of gloomy Thomas," said
Nevile. "Nobody could say he shows any
enjoyment of my company."
"He's rather a dear," said Mary.
"I disagree. Narrow-minded prejudiced
sort of chap."
"He always hoped to marry Audrey; I
think. And then you came along and cut him
OUt.
"It would have taken him about seven
years to make up his mind to ask her to
marry him. Did he expect the poor girl to
wait about while he made up his mind?"
"Perhaps," said Mary deliberately, "it will
all come fight now."
Nevile looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"True love rewarded?
wet fish? She's a lot too
I don't see Audrey

Audrey marry that
good for that. No,
marrying gloomy

Thomas."
"I believe she is really very fond of him,

Nevile."
	, .......


are! Can't you let Audrey enjoy her freedom
for a bit?"
"If she does enjoy it, certainly."
Nevile said quickly:
"You think she's not happy?"
-"I really haven't the least idea."

"No more have I," said Nevile slowly.
"One never does know what Audrey is feeling."
He paused and then added, "But Audrey
is one hundred per cent thoroughbred.
She's white all through."
Then he said, more to himself than to
Mary, "6od, what a damned fool I've been!"
Mary went into the house a little worried.
For the third time she repeated to herself the
comforting words, "Only two days more."
Nevile wandered restlessly about the garden
and terraces.
Right at the end of the garden he found
Audrey sitting on the low wall looking down
at the water below. It was high tide and the
river was full.
She got up at once and came towards him.
"I was just coming back to the house. It
must be nearly teatime."
She spoke quickly and nervously without
looking at him.


Only when they reached the terrace again
dil he say:

"Can I talk to you, Audrey?"

She said at once, her fingers gripping the
eclge of the balustrade:

"I think you'd better not."

"That means you know what I want to

saY.

She did not answer.

"What about it, Audrey? Can't we go back
to where we were? Forget everything that
has happened?"

"Including Kay?"

"Kay," said Nevile, "will be sensible."
"What do you mean by sensible?"
"Simply this. I shall go to her and tell her
tlae truth. Fling myself on her generosity.
Tell her, what is true, that you are the only
woman I ever loved."

"You loved Kay when you married her."

"My marriage to Kay was the biggest mis-take
I ever made. I ..... "

He stopped. Kay had come out of the
drawing room window. She walked towards
tlaem, and before the fury in her eyes even
lqevile shrank a little!

"Sorry to interrupt this touching scene,"
said Kay. "But I think it's about time I
did."


&udrey got up and moved away.
"I'll leave you alone," she said.
Her face and voice were colorless.

"That's right," said Kay. "You've done
all the mischief you wanted to do, haven't
you? I'll deal with you later. Just now I'd
rather have it out with Nevile."

"Look here, Kay, Audrey has absolutely
nothing to do with this. It's not her fault.
Blame me if you like--"

"And I do like," said Kay. Her eyes blazed
at Nevile. "What sort of a man do you think
you are?"

"A pretty poor sort of man," said Nevile
bitterly.

"You leave your wife, come bullheaded
after me, get your wife to give you a divorce.
Crazy about me one minute, tired of me
the next! Now I suppose you want to go
back to that whey-faced, mewling, double-crossing
little cat "

"Stop that, Kay!"

"Well, what do you want?"

Nevile was very white. He said:


"I'm every kind of a worm you like to
call me. But it's no good, Kay. I can't go on.
I think really I must have loved Audrey
all the time. My love for you was was a

kind nf mndne. Rnt it'e nn nn,4 m,, ,4.--,,.


you and I don't bdong. I shouldn't be able
to make you happy in the long run. Believe
me, Kay, it's better to cut our losses. Let's
try and part friends. Be generous."
Kay said in a deceptively quiet voice:
"What exactly are you suggesting?"
Nevile did not look at her. His chin took
on a dogged angle.
"We can get a divorce. You can divorce
me for desertion."
"Not for some time. You'll have to wait
for it."
"I'll wait," said Nevile.
"And then, after three years or whatever it
is, you'll ask dear sweet Audrey to marry all
over again?"
"If she'll have me."
"She'll have you all right!" said Kay viciously.
"And where do I come in?"
"You'll be free to find a better man than
I am. Naturally I shall see you're well provided
for "
"Cut out the bribes!" Her voice rose, as
she lost control of herself:
"Listen to me, Nevile. You can't do this
thing to me! I'll not divorce you. I married you because I loved you. I know when you
started turning against me. It was after I let you know I followed you to Estoril. You


wanted to think it was all Fate. It upset your
vanity to think it was me.t Well, I'm not
ashamed of what I did. You fell in love with
me and married me and I'm not going to let
you go back to that sly little cat who's got
her hooks into you again. She meant this
to happen but she's not going to bring it
off! I'll kill you fa:st. Do you hear? I'll kill
you. I'll kill her too. I'll see you both dead.
I'll "

Nevile took a step forward and caught her
by the arm.

"Shut up, Kay. For goodness' sake. You

can't make this kind of scene here."
"Can't I? You'll see. I'll "

Hurstall stepped out on the terrace. His
face was quite impassive.

"Tea is served in the drawing room," he
announced.

Kay and Nevile walked slowly towards the
drawing room window.

Hurstall stood aside to let them pass in.
Up in the sky the clouds were gathering.


XI


The rain started falling at a quarter to seven.

Nevile watched it from the window of his


bedroom. He had had no further conwersation
with Kay. They had avoided each ,other
after tea.
Dinner that evening was a stilted diffficult
meal. Nevile was sunk in abstraction; ]Kay's
face had an unusual amount of mak,:eup;
Audrey sat like a frozen ghost. Mary Mdin
did her best to keep some kind of co:,nversation
going and was slightly annoyed with
Thomas Royde for not playing up to her
better.
Hurstall was nervous and his hands trembled
as he handed the vegetables.
As the meal drew to a close, Nevilee said
with elaborate casualness, "Think I shall go
over to Easterhead after dinner and look up
Latimer. We might have a game of billiarrds."
"Take the latchkey," said Mary. "Ira case
you're back late."
"Thanks, I will."
They went into the drawing room where
coffee was served.
The turning on of the wireless and the
news was a welcome diversion.
Kay, who had been yawning ostentatiously
ever since dinner,' said she would go up to
bed. She had got a headache.
"Have you got any aspirin?" asked Mary.
"Yes, thank you."


She left the room.

Nevile tuned the wireless on to a program
with music. He sat silent on the sofa for
some time. He did not look once at Audrey,
but sat huddled up looking like an unhappy
little boy. Against her will, Mary felt quite
sorry for him.

"Well," he said at last, rousing himself.
"Better be off if I'm going."

"Are you taking your car or going by
ferry?"

"Oh, ferry. No sense in going a rotmd of

fifteen miles. I shall enjoy a bit of a walk."
"It's raining, you know."

"I know. I've got a Burberry."
He went towards the door.
"Good night."

In the hall, Hurstall came to him.

"If you please, sir, will you go up to Lady
Tressilian? She wants to see you specially."

Nevile glanced at the clock. It was already
ten o'clock.

He shrugged his shoulders and went up-stairs
and along the corridor to Lady
Tressilian's room and tapped on the door.
While he waited for her to say come in, he
heard the voices of the others in the hall
down below. Everybody was going to bed
early tonight, it seemed.


"Come in," said Lady Tressilian's clear
voice.

Nevile went in, shutting the door behind
him.

Lady Tressilian was all ready for the night.
All the lights were extinguished except one
reading lamp by her bed. She had been read-ing,
but she now laid down the book. She
looked at Nevile over the top of her specta-cles.
It was, somehow, a formidable glance.

"I want to speak to you, Nevile," she
said.

In spite of himself, Nevile smiled fainfiy.
"Yes, Headmaster," he said.
Lady Tressilian did not smile.

"There are certain things, Nevile, that I
will not permit in my house. I have no wish
to listen to anybody's private conversations
but if you and your wife insist on shouting
at each other exactly under my bedroom
windows, I can hardly fail to hear what you
say. I gather that you were outlining a plan
whereby Kay was to divorce you and in due
course you would remarry Audrey. That,
Nevile, is a thing you simply cannot do and
I will not hear of it for a moment."

Nevile seemed to be making an effort to
control his temper.


shortly. "As for the rest of what you say,
surely that is my business!"

"No, it is not. You have' used my house in
order to get into touch with Audrey or else
Audrey has used it--"

"She has done nothing of the sort. She "

Lady Tressilian stopped him with upraised
hand.

"Anyway you can't do this thing, Nevile.
Kay is your wife. She has certain rights of
which you cannot deprive her. In this mat-ter,
I am entirely on Kay's side. You have
made your bed and must lie upon it. Your
duty now is to Kay and I am telling you so
plainly"

Nevile took a step forward. His voice rose:

"This is nothing whatever to do with
you .... "

"nat is more," Lady Tressilian swept on
regardless of his protest, "Audrey leaves this
house tomorrow "

	"You can't do that! I won't stand for it 	"

	"Don't
shout at me, Nevile."

	"I tell you I won't have it "

Somewhere along the passage a door
shut..


XII

Alice Bentham, the gooseberry-eyed housemaid,
c::ame to Mrs. Spicer the cook, in some
perturb,afion.
"Oh,o Mrs. Spicer, I don't rightly know
what I ,ought to do."
"Wh:,at's the matter, Alice?"
"It's Miss Barrett. I took her in her cup of
tea ove:;r an hour ago. Fast asleep she was
and never woke up, but I didn't like to do
much. ,And then, five minutes ago, I went in
'again because she hadn't come down and her
ladyshilp's tea all ready and waiting for her to
take in. So I went in again and she's sleeping
ever so- I can't stir her."
,,HaVre you shaken her?"
"Yes, Mrs. Spicer. I shook her hard but
she just goes on lying there and she's ever
such a lhorrid color."
"Goclness, she's not dead, is she?"
"Oh no, Mrs. Spicer, because I can hear
her bre:athing, but it's funny breathing. I
think she's ill or something."
"WEB, I'll go up and see myself. You take

in her ladyship's tea. Better make a fresh
pot. She'll be wondering what's happened."
Alice obedienfiy did as she was told whilst
aa r .qoicer-went ut to the second floor.


Taking the tray along the corridor, Alice
knocked at Lady Tressilian's door. After
knocking twice and getting no answer she
went in. A moment later, there was a crash
of broken crockery and a series of wild
screams and Alice came rushing out of the
room and down the stairs to where Hurstall
was crossing the hall to the dining room.
"Oh, Mr. Hurstall there've been burglars
and her ladyship's dead killed with
a great hole in her head and blood everywhere

	"


A Fine Italian Hand...


I


Superintendent Battle had enjoyed his holi-day.
There were still three days of it to run
and he was a little disappointed when the
weather changed and the rain fell. Still, what
else could you expect in England? And he'd
been extremely lucky up to now.

He was breakfasting with Inspector James
Leach, his nephew, when the telephone rang.

"I'll come fight along, sir." Jim put the
receiver back.

"Serious?" asked Superintendent Battle.
He noted the expression on his nephew's
face.

"We've got a murder. Lady Tressilian.
An old lady, very well known down here, an
invalid. Has that house at Saltcreek that

hangs fight over the cliff."

Battle nodded.

"I'm going along to see the old man" (thus
disrestx:ctfixllv did Leach seak of his Chief


Constable). "He's a friend of hers. We're
going to the place together."

As he went to the door he said pleadingly:

"You'll give me a hand, won't you, Uncle,
over this? First case of this kind I've had."

"As long as I'm here, I will. Case of rob-bery
and housebreaking, is it?"

"I don't know yet."


II


Half an hour later, Major Robert Mitchell,
the Chief Constable, was speaking gravely to
uncle and nephew.

"It's early to say as yet," he said, "but one
thing seems clear. This wasn't an outside
job. Nothing taken, no signs of breaking in.
All the windows and doors found shut this
morning."

He looked directly at Battle.

"If I were to ask Scotland Yard, do you
think they'd put you on the job? You're
on the spot, you see. And then there's your
relationship with Leach here. That is, if

you're willing. It means cutting the end of

your holiday."

"That's all right," said Battle. "As for the

nthor .ir vnll'll have to nut it up to Sir


Edgar" (Sir Edgar Cotton was Assistant
Commissioner) "but I believe he's a friend of
yours?"

Mitchell nodded.

"Yes, I think I can manage Edgar all right.
That's settled, then! I'll get through right
away."

He spoke into the telephone: "Get me the
Yard."

"You think it's going to be an important
case, sir?" asked Battle.

Mitchell said gravely:

"It's going to be a case where we don't
want the possibility of making a mistake.
We want to be absolutely sure of our man
or woman, of course."

Battle nodded. He understood quite well
that there was something behind the words.

"Thinks he knows who did it," he said to
himself. "And doesn't relish the prospect.
Somebody well known and popular or I'll eat
my boots!"


III


Battle and Leach stood in the doorway of the
well-furnished, handsome bedroom. On the


carefully testing for fingerprints the handle
of a golf club a heavy niblick. The head
of the club was bloodstained and had one or
two white hairs sticking to it.

By the bed Dr. Lazenby, who was police
surgeon for the district, was bending over
the body of Lady Tressilian.

He straightened up with a sigh.

"Perfectly straightforward. She was hit
from in front with terrific force. First blow
smashed in the bone and killed her, but the
murderer struck again to make sure. I won't
give you the fancy terms just the plain horse
sense of it."

"How long has she been dead?" asked
Leach.

"I'd put it between ten o'clock and
midnight."

"You can't go nearer than that?"

"I'd rather not. All sons of factors to take
into account. We don't hang people on r/gor
mon/s nowadays. Not earlier than ten, not later
than midnight."

"And she was hit with this niblick?"
The doctor glanced over at it.
"Presumably. Luck, though, that the
murderer left it behind. I couldn't have de-duced
a niblick from the wound. As it hap
none
tho .hm edge nf the club didn't touch


the head it was the angled back of the club
that must have hit her."

"Wouldn't that have been rather difficult
to do?" asked Leach.

"If it had been done on purpose, yes,"
agreed the doctor. "I can only suppose, that
by a rather odd chance, it just happened that
way."

Leach was raising his hands, instinctively
trying to reconstruct the blow.

"Awkward," he commented.

"Yes," said the doctor thoughtfully. "The
whole thing was awkward. She was struck,
you see, on the right temple but whoever
did it must have stood on the right hand
side of the bed facing the head of the bed

there's no room on the left, the angle from
the wall is too small."

Leach pricked up his ears.

"Left handed?" he queried.

"You won't get me to commit myself on
that point," said Lazenby. "Far too many
snags. I'll say, if you like, that the easiest
explanation is that the murderer was left
handed but there are other ways of account-ing
for it. Suppose, for instance, the old lady
had turned her head slightly to the left just


moved the bed out, stood on the left of it

and afterwards moved the bed back."
"Not very likely that last."

"Perhaps not, but it might have happened.
I've had some experience in these things,
and I can tell you, my boy, deducing that
a murderous blow was struck left handed is
full of pitfalls!"

Detective Sergeant Jones from the floor,
remarked, "This golf club is the ordinary
right-handed kind."

Leach nodded. "Still, it mayn't have be-longed
to the man who used it. It was a
man, I suppose, Doctor?"

"Not necessarily. If the weapon was that
heavy niblick a woman could have landed a
terrible swipe with it."

Superintendent Battle said in his quiet
voice:

"But you couldn't swear that that was the
weapon, could you, Doctor?"

Lazenby gave him a quick interested
glance.

"No. I can only swear that it might have
been the weapon, and that presumably it was
the weapon. I'll analyze the blood on it,
make sure that it's the same blood group
also the hairs."


"Yes," said Battle approvingly. "It's always
as well to be thorough."
Lazenby asked curiously:
"Got any doubts about that golf club yourself,
Superintendent?"
Battle shook his head.
"Oh, no, no. I'm a simple man. Like to
believe the thing I see with my eyes. She
was hit with something heavy that's heavy.
It has blood and hair on it, therefore presumably
her blood and hair. Ergo that was
the weapon used."
Leach asked:
"Was she awake or asleep when she was
hit?"
"In my opinion, awake. There's astonishment
on her face. I'd say this is just a
private personal opinion that she didn't
expect what was going to happen. There's no
sign of any attempt to fight and no horror
or fear. I'd say off hand that either she had
just woken up from sleep and was hazy and
didn't take things in or else she recognized
her assailant as someone who could not possibly
wish to harm her."
"The bedside lamp was on and nothing
else," said Leach thoughtfully.
"Yes, that cuts either way. She may have
turned it' on when she was suddenly woken


up by someone entering her room. Or it may
have been on already."

Detective Sergeant Jones rose to his feet.
He was smiling appreciatively.

"Lovely set of prints on that club," he
said. "Clear as anything!"

Leach gave a deep sigh.

"That ought to simplify things."
"Obliging chap," said Dr. Lazenby. "Left
the weapon left his fingerprints on it won-der
he didn't leave his visiting card!"

"It might be," said Superintendent Battle,

"that he just lost his head. Some do."

The doctor nodded.

"True enough. Well, I must go and look
after my other patient."

"What patient?" Battle sounded suddenly
interested.

"I was sent for by the butler before this
was discovered. Lady Tressilian's maid was
found in a coma this morning."

"What was wrong with her?"

"Heavily doped with one of the barbitu-rates.
She's pretty bad, but she'll pull round."

"The maid?" said Battle. His rather ox-like
eyes went heavily to the big bell pull,
the tassel of which rested on the pillow near
the dead woman's hand.

Lazenby nodded.


"Exactly. That's the fzrst thing Lady
Tressilian would have done if she'd cause
to fed alarm pull that bell and summon the
maid. Well, she could have pulled it till all
was blue. The maid wouldn't have heard."

"That was taken care of, was it?" said
Battle. "You're sure of that? She wasn't in
the habit of taking sleeping draughts?"

"I'm positive she wasn't. There's not a
sign of such a thing in her room. And I've
found out how it was given to her. Senna
pods. She drank off a brew of senna pods
every night. The stuff was in that."

Superintendent Battle scratched his chin.
"H'm," he said. "Someone knew all about
this house. You know, Doctor, this is a very
odd sort of murder."

"Well," said Lazenby. "That's your busi-ness.''

"He's a good man, our doctor," said Leach
when Lazenby had left the room.

The two men were alone now. The photo-graphs
had been taken, and measurements
recorded. The two police officers knew every
fact that was to be known about the room
where the crime had been committed.

Battle nodded in answer to his nephew's
remark. He seemed to be puzzling over


"Do you think anyone could have handled
that club. with gloves on, say. after those

fingerprints were made?"

Leach shook his head.

"I don't and no more do y°u. You couldn't
grasp that club not use it, I mean, without
smearing those prints. They weren't smeared.
They were clear as clear. You saw for your-self."

Battle agreed.

"And now we ask very nicely and politely
if everyone will allow us to take their fin-gerprints,
no compulsion, of course. And
everybody will say yes. and then one of two
things will happen. Either none of these fin-gerprints
will agree, or else "

"Or else we'll have got our man?"

"I suppose so. Or our woman, perhaps."
Leach shook his head.

"No, not a woman. Those prints on the
clubs were a man's. Too big for a woman's,
Besides this isn't a woman's crime."

"No," agreed Battle. "Quite a man's
crime. Brutal, masculine, rather athletic and
slightly stupid. Know anybody in the house
like that?"

"I don't know anyone in the house yet.

They're all together in the dininrcm"


	"We'll go and have a look at them." He

glanced o°ver his shoulder at the bed, shook

his head ,(,and remarked:

	"I don''t like that bell pull."

	"What; about it?"

	"It doesn't fit."

	He adc5ted as he opened the door:

	"Who ' wanted to kill her, I wonder? A lot

	of cantanJker°us old ladies about just asking
for a
		on the skull. She doesn't lok that

	tap 		, ,
sort. I she5:)ma think she was liked." He paused

a minute
"Well
money?"
Leach

and then asked:
off, wasn't she? Who gets her

answered the implication of the

words:

	,,You,de hit it! That will be the answer.

	It's one of the first things to f'md out."

	As thffy went downstairs together, Battle

	glanced t the list in his hand.

	He read out:

	"Miss Aldin, Mr. Royde, 	Mr. Strange,

	Mrs. Stfange' Mrs. Audrey Strange. H'm,

	seem a Ityt of the Strange family."

	"Thos are his two wives, I understand."

	Battle,eyebrows rose and he murmured:
	,,
	card, is he?"
	Bluel
	, - cAmilv were assembled round the clin-


ing room table, where they had rade apre-tense
of eating.
Superintendent Battle glanced keer/7 at
the faces turned to him. Fie was s'zfing hem
up after his OWl pectfiiar methods. His view
of them might have surprised the had they
known it. It was a sternly biased view, No
matter what the law pretends as to regarding
people innocent until they are proed gfilty,
Superintendent Battle always regarded eery-one
connected with a murder case as potential
murderer.
He glanced from Mary Aldin sitting upright
and pale at the head of the table, to
Thomas Royde filling a pipe beside her, to
Audrey sitting with her chair pushed lack,
a coffee cup and saucer in her right had, a
cigarette in her left, to Nevile looking (azed
and bewildered, trying with a shaking aand
to light a cigarette, to Kay with ler elbOWS
on the table and the pallor of her face stXOWing
through her makeup.
These .were Superintendent Battle's
thoughts:
Suppose that's Miss Aldin. Cool customer
competent woman, I should say.
Won't catch her off her guard esily. Man

next to her is a dark horse got a groggy arm hit nfa nnker face-.--,,,t on inferior
ity complex as likely as not. That's one of
these wives, I suppose she's scared to
death yes, she's scared all right. Funny
about that coffee cup. That's Strange, I've
seen him before somewhere. He's got the
jitters all right nerves shot to pieces. Red
headed girl's a tartar devil of a temper.
Brains as well as temper, though.
Whilst he was thus sizing them up, Inspector
Leach was making a stiff little speech.
Mary Aldin mentioned everyone present by

nalTle.
She ended up:
"It has been a terrible shock to us, of
course, but we are anxious to help you in
any way we can."

"To begin with," said Leach, holding it
up, "does anybody know anything about this

golf club?"
With a LITTLE cry, Kay said, "How horrible.
Is that what "and stopped.
Nevile Strange got up and came round the
table.
"Looks like one of mine. Can I just see?"
"It's quite all fight now," said Inspector
Leach. "You can handle it."
That little significant "now" did not seem
to produce any reaction in the onlookers.
Nevile examined the club.


!'l thinkc it's one of the niblicks out of my
bag," he said. "I can tell you for sure in a
minute or: two. If you will just come with
me." The:,y followed him to a big cupboard
under the stairs. He flung open the door of

it and to Battle's confused eyes it seemed
literally c:rowded with tennis rackets. At

the same time, he remembered where he had
seen Neville Strange. He said quickly:
"I've se:en you play at Wimbledon, sir."
Nevile lhalf mined his head.
"Oh, yes, have you?"
He was; throwing aside some of the rackets.
There were two golf bags in the cupboard
leaning up against fishing tackle.
"Only rny wife and I play golf," explained
Nevile. "/And that's a man's club. Yes, that's
right it' mine."
He had taken out his bag which contained
at least fo,urteen clubs.
Inspecttor Leach thought to himself:
"These. athletic chaps certainly take themselves
seriously. Wouldn't like to be his
caddy."
Nevile was saying:
"It's one of Walter Hudson's niblicks from
St. Esbert's."
"Thank you, Mr. Strange. That settles
one question."


Nevile said:
"What beats Me is thaC nothing was taken.
And the house doesn't seem to have been
broken into?" Sfis voice was bewildered
but it was also..righteneCl'
Battle said to himself:
thinging it out, all of
"They've
ben
them .... "
"The servants,,, said lqevile, "are so absolutely
harmless ,,
"I shall tal to Mis Aldin about the
servants," saicl Tnsoect0r L-each smoothly.
In the meane I wo0cler if you could give
me any idea Wiho Lady Tressilian's solicitors
are?"
"Askwith &k Tr¢la'SY," replied Nevile
promptly. "St,,. Loo."
"Thank yo%, Mr. strange. We shall have
	to £md out
	from em all about Lady

	Tressilian's
Prt°PerL,,Y'asged--' Nevile, "who in"Do
you rrean'
	hefits her mor
,,
	.
	,,.-., ri..ncY'.. er will, and all that."

	w U," aia 4evae.

	·oI t xxaaOW aDOU

	"She had not we, mu¢ of her own to leave

	so far as I kow. I tell you about the

	bulk of her pro..rty."

	xes, xr... Strange?
	,,. ....o
	-- my wife under the


will of the late Sir Matthew Tressilian. Lady
Tressilian only had a life interest in it."
"Indeed, is that so?" Inspector Leach
looked at Nevile with the interested attention
of someone who spots a possibly valuable
addition to his pet collection. The look made
Nevile wince nervously. Inspector Leach
went on and his voice was impossibly genial,
"You've no idea of the amount, Mr.
Strange?"
"I couldn't tell you off hand. In the neigh-I

borhood of a hundred thousand pounds,
believe."
"In-deed. To each of you?"
"No, divided between us."
"I see. A very considerable sum."

Nevile smiled. He said quietly, "I've got
plenty to live on of my own, you know,
without hankering to step into dead people's
shoes."
Inspector Leach looked shocked at having
such ideas attributed to him.
They went back into the dining room and
Leach said his next little piece. This was on
the subject of fingerprints a matter of rou-fine
elimination of those of the household
in the dead woman's bedroom.
Everyone expressed willingness almost
eaeerness t have their finernrint. takenThey were shepherded into the library for
that purpose where Detective Sergeant Jones
was waiting for them with his little roller.

Battle and Leach began on the servants.
Nothing very much was to be got from
them. Hurstall explained his system of lock-ing
up the house and swore that he had
found it untouched in the morning.. There
were no signs of any entry by an intruder.
The front door, he explained, had been left
on the latch. That is to say it was not bolted,
but could be opened from outside with a
key. It was left like that because Mr. Nevile
had gone over to Easterhead Bay and would
be back late.

"Do you know what time he came in?"
"Yes, sir, I think it was about half past
two. Someone came back with him, I think.
I heard voices and then a car drive away and
then I heard the door close and Mr. Nevile
come upstairs."

"What time did he leave here last night
for Easterhead Bay?"

"About twenty past ten. I heard the door
close."

Leach nodded. There did not seem much
more to be got from Hurstall at the moment.
He interviewed the others. They were all


no more so than was natural in the circum-stances.

Leach looked questioningly at his uncle as
the door closed behind the slightly hysterical
kitchenmaid who had tailed the procession.

Battle said: "Have the housemaid back
not the pop-eyed one--the tall thin bit of
vinegar. She knows something."

Emma Wales was clearly uneasy. It
alarmed her that this time it was the big
elderly square man who took upon himself
the task of questioning her.

"I'm just going to give you a bit of advice,
Miss Wales," he said pleasantly. "It doesn't
do, you know, to hold anything back from
the police. Makes them look at you unfavor-ably,
if you understand what I mean "

Emma Wales protested indignantly but
uneasily:

"I'm sure I never "

"Now, now." Battle held up a large square
hand. "You saw something or else you heard
something, what was it?"


"I didn't exactly hear it I mean I couldn't
help hearing it Mr.. Hurstall, he heard it
too. And I don't think, not for a moment
I don't, that t had anything to do with the


"Probably not, probably not. Just tell us
	hat was."

	"Witell, I was going up to bed. Just after

	te.n. it was.-]and I d slipped along, first to put

	/Vliss Aldm's hot water bottle m her bed.
		-r
		and

			always has one,

	Summer or winter she
	so of course I had to pass right by her

	ladyship's door."
',',Go on," said Battle.
.And I heard her and Mr. Nevile going
at t hammer and tongs. Voices right up.
Shouting, he was. Oh, it was a proper quarrel!''
"Remember exactly what was said?"
"Well, I wasn't really listening as you might say."
"No. But still you must have heard some
of the words." . ,
	"Her ladyship was saying as she wouldn t

	or other going on in her
	have something
	·
	ouse and Mr. Nevile. was s.aymg; ,",,

	dare to say anything against net.

	you
	worked up he was.
	.
e with an expressionless lace, ux
Battl , -- ,-....A t o more out of
once more, tut nc .o,,y ,: n. 	·.

the end he disxmssect me woman.

	her In
	ach

	He and Jim.-3-.o.? ,a,ach other. Le


"Jones ought to be able to tell us something
about those prints by now."
Battle asked:
"Who's doing the rooms?"
"Williams. He's a good man. He won't
miss anything."
"You're keeping the occupants out of
them?"
"Yes. Until Williams has fmished."
The door opened at that minute and young
Williams put his head in.
"There's something I'd like you to see. In
Mr. Nevile Strange's room."
They got up and followed him to the suite
on the west side of the house.
Williams pointed to a heap on the floor. A
dark blue coat, trousers and waistcoat.
Leach said sharply:
"Where did you f'md this?"
"Bundled down into the bottom of the
wardrobe. Just look at this, sir."
He picked up the coat and showed the
edges of the dark blue cuffs.
"See those dark stains? That's blood, sir,
or I'm a Dutchman. And see here, it's spattered
all up the sleeve."
"Hm," Battle avoided the other's eager
eyes. "Looks bad for young Nevile, I must
say. Any other suit in the room?"


"Dark grey pin stripe hanging over a chair.
Lot of water on the floor here by the wash
basin."

"Looking as though he washed the blood
off himself in the devil of a hurry? Yes. It's
near the open window, though, and the rain
has come in a good deal."

"Not enough to make those pools on the
floor, sir. They're not dried up yet."

Battle was silent. A picture was forming
itself before his eyes. A man with blood on
his hands and sleeves, flinging off his clothes,
bundling the bloodstained garments into the
cupboard, sluicing water furiously over his
hands and bare arms.

He looked across at a door in the other
wall.

Williams answered the look.

"Mrs. Strange's room, sir. The door is
locked."

"Locked? On this side?"
"No. On the other."
"On her side, eh?"

Battle was reflective for a minute or two.
He said at last, "Let's see that old butler
again."

Hurstall was nervous. Leach said crisply:
"Why didn't vnll tell us. Hurstall. that


you overheard a quarrel between Mr. Strange
and Lady Tressilian last night?"

The old man blinked.


"I really didn't think twice about it, sir.

I don't '.nnagine it.was what you'd call a

quarrel lust an armcable difference of opin-ion.''


Resisting the temptation to say, "Ami-cable
difference of opinion my foot!" Leach


went on:


"What suit was Mr. Strange wearing last
night at dinner?"

Hurstall hesitated. Battle said quietly:
"Dark blue suit or grey pin stripe? I
daresay someone else can tell us if you don't
remember."

Hurstall broke his silence.

"I remember now, sir. It was his dark
blue. The family," he added, anxious not
to lose prestige, "have not been in the habit
of changing into evening dress during the
summer months. They frequently go out af-ter
dinner--sometimes in the garden, some-times
down to the quay."

Battle nodded. Hurstall left the room. He
passed Jones in the doorway. Jones looked
excited.

He said:


q'here's onl
	.. the bill. Of course .I v
;nly been :onk.e,a r.°Ug..c°mpar,,s°n

as yet, but I'll bet thFY re the ngrtt ones.

w
	yMr. N .
	· '
	Battle leant back iq- his chatr.
	. .-
	,,xvr,u
,, '
	., ;'that seems to setue
doesn't it? ',

IV

	They were in the (5hief Constable's office

	three men . .:.¢e worded faces.

	Major htchl"'e*d with a sigh:

	"Well, I suppose,,there's nothing to be

	done but aarrest hi.

	Leach Said auie:
	¢T..d,
	1. ,, ,,
		"u°'3 like lt, '

		Mitchel lookedCrOSS at Superintendent

	Baffle.

		"Cheer -- 4/' he said kindly. "Your
	. . .
	. up, lau. ,,
	t)est Ine.nqd isn't dd' ·

		Supertl?ntendent J.attle .s.ghed.

		"I doll! .'- :. ,rle salcl.

			i t like lt . · ,,
	·

		"I do", thinkmY of us like t,
	.smd
	· s;,,hon"ln.,t.. 'e ample evidence, I think,


"More than ample," said Battle.
"In fact if we don't apply for one, anybody
might ask why the dickens not?"
Battle nodded an unhappy head.
"Let's go over it," said the Chief Constable.
"You've got motive Strange and his
wife come into a considerable sum of money
at the old lady's death. He's the last person
known to have seen her alive he was heard
quarreling with her. The suit he wore that
night had bloodstains on it and that blood
is the same group as that of the deceased
woman (that's only negative evidence, of
course); most damning of all, his fingerprints
were found upon the actual weapon and no one else' s."
"And yet, sir," said Battle, "you don't like
it either."
"I'm damned if I do."
"What is it exactly you don't like about it,
Sir?"
Major Mitchell rubbed his nose.
"Makes the fellow out a bit too much of
a fool, perhaps?" he suggested.
"And yet, sir, they do behave like fools
sometimes."
"Oh, I know I know. Where would we
be if they didn't?"
Battle said to Leach:


	,,What don't you Ix-ilv'

	L';h stirred unh. aPr. Strange. Seen him

	"I've always likea 'for years. He's a nice

on and off dow.n.he, rsesportsman." ,, .

		- d rte

eentleman an,, . Battle slowly, why a

	,,
	't see,
	sma
	't be a murderer

	I don
	ouldn
	.

eood
tennis play. er s)fing against xt." He
o well. There's nut like is the niblick."


	puzzled.
	. eatively, the bell. The

		"Yes, sir, or .aliot both."

	bell or the nibli, cg] :sslow careful voice.

		He went on m ru'tt actually happened?

		"What do we to her room, have a

	qD&d Mr. Strange ,er. and hit her over the

	arrel, lose his t..eiOJlf so, and t was

	a raon'
	'

	head with
	. , did he happen to have

	unpremeditated, l¢."t's not the sort of thing

	a niblick with hira:,(you in the eveni.gs."

	you carry.apo .een pracncmg swmgs--

		"He rrnght

	something like tha

			"He might.Da


saw him doing xt.

him with a niblic

weepreviously sands. As I look at it,


tobody says so. Nobody
te last time anybody saw
n his hand was about a
:n he was practicing sand


there was a quarrel and he lost his temper
and mind you, I've seen him on the courts,
and in one of these tournament matches these
tennis stars are all het up and a mass of
nerves and if their tempers fray easily it's
going to show. I've never seen Mr. Strange
raffled. I should say he'd got an excellent
control over his temper better than most
and yet we're suggesting that he goes berserk
and hits a frail old lady over the head."
"There's another alternative, Battle," said
the Chief Constable.
"I know, sir. The theory that it was premeditated.
He wanted the old lady's money.
That fits in with the bell which entailed the
doping of the maid but it doesn't fit in with
the niblick and the quarrel! If he'd made
up his mind to do her in, he'd be very careful
not to quarrel with her. He could dope
the maid creep into her room in the night
crack her over the head and stage a nice
little robbery, wiping the niblick and putting
it carefully back where it belonged! It's all
wrong, sir it's a mixture of cold premeditation
and unpremeditated violence and the
two don't mix!"
"There's something in what you say, Bat-tie
but what's the alternative?"
"It's the niblick that takes my fancw sir."


"Nobody could have hit her over the head
with that niblick without disturbing Nevile's
prints that's quite certain."

"In that case," said Superintendent Battle,
"she was hit over the head with something
else."

Major Mitchell drew a deep breath.
"That's rather a wild assumption, isn't it?"
"I think it's common sense, sir. Either
Strange hit her with that niblick or nobody
did. I plump for nobody. In that case that
niblick was put there deliberately and blood
and hair smeared on it. Dr. Lazenby doesn't
like the niblick much he had to accept it
because it was the obvious thing and because
he couldn't say definitely that it hadn't been
used."

Major Mitchell leaned back in his chair.

"Go on, Battle," he said. "I'm giving you
a free hand. What's the next step?"

"Take away the niblick," said Battle,
"and what is left? First, motive. Had Nevile
Strange really got a motive for doing away
with Lady Tressilian? He inherited money

a lot depends to my mind on whether he
needed that money. He says not. I'd suggest
we verify that. Find out the state of his
finances. If he's in a hole financially, and


very much strengthened. If, on the other
hand, he was speaking the truth and his

finances are in a good state, why, then "
"Well, what then?"

"Why, then we might have a look at the
motives of the other people in the house."

"You think, then, that Nevile Strange was
framed?"

Superintendent Battle screwed up his eyes.
"There's a phrase I read somewhere that
tickled my fancy. Something about a fine
Italian hand. That's what I seem to see in
this business. Ostensibly it's a blunt bru-tal
straightforward crime, but it seems to
me I catch glimpses of something else of a
fine Italian hand at work behind the

scenes 	"

There
was a long pause while the Chief Constable
looked at Battle.
"You
may be right," he said at last. "Dash it
all, there's something funny about the busi-ness.
What's your idea, now, of our plan of campaign?"

Battle
stroked his square jaw.
"Well,
sir," he said. "I'm always in favor of
going about things in the obvious way. Everything's
been set to make us suspicious of
Mr. Nevile Strange. Let's go on being

really to arrest him, but hint at it, question
him, put the wind up him and observe
everybody's reactions generally. Verify his
statements, go over his movements that night
with a toothcomb. In fact show our hand as
plainly as may be."

"Quite Machiavellian," said Major Mitch-ell
with a twinkle. "Imitation of a heavy
handed
policeman by star actor Battle."
The Superintendent smiled.

"I always like doing what's expected of
me, sir. This time I mean to be a bit slow
about it take my time. I want to do some
nosing about. Being suspicious of Mr. Nevile
Strange is a very good excuse for nosing
about. I've an idea, you know, that some-thing
rather odd has been going on in that
house."

"Looking for the sex angle?"

"If you like to put it that way, sir."

"Handle it your own way, Battle. You and
Leach carry on between you."

"Thank you, sir." Battle stood up.
"Nothing suggestive from the solicitors?"

"No, I rang them up. I know Trelawny
fairly well. He's sending me a copy of Sir
Matthew's will and also of Lady Tressilian's.
She had about five hundred a year of her
own invested in gilt-edged securities. She


left a legacy to Barrett and a small one to
Hurstall, the rest to Mary Aldin."

"That's three we might keep an eye on,"


said Battle.

Mitchell looked amused.

"Suspicious fellow, aren't you?"

"No use letting oneself be hypnotized
by fifty thousand pounds," said Battle stol-idly.
"Many a murder has been done for less
than fifty pounds. It depends on how much
you want the money. Barrett got a legacy
and maybe she took the precaution to dope
herself so as to avert suspicion."

"She very nearly passed out. Lazenby
hasn't let us question her yet."

"Overdid it out of ignorance, perhaps.
Then Hurstall may have been in bad need of
cash for all we know. And Miss Aldin, if
she's no money of her own, might have fan-cied
a bit of life on a nice little income before
she's too old to enjoy it."

The Chief Constable looked doubtful.

"Well," he said, "it's up to you two. Get
on with the job."


V


Back at Gull's Point the two police officers
received W'filiams' report.

Nothing' of a suspicious or suggestive na-ture
had been found in any of the bedrooms.
The servants were clamoring to be allowed
to get on with the housework. Should he
give them the word?

"Might as well, I suppose," said Battle.
"I'll just have a stroll myself first through
the upper floors. Rooms that haven't been
done very often tell you something about
their occupants that's useful to know."

Jones put down a small cardboard box on
the table.

"From Mr. Nevile Strange's dark blue
coat," he announced. "The red hairs were
on the cuff, blonde hairs on the inside of the
collar and the fight shoulder."

Battle took out the two long red hairs and
the half dozen blonde ones and looked at
them. He said, with a faint twinkle in his
eve:

"Convenient. One blonde, one redhead
and one brunette in this house. So we know
where we are at once. Red hair on the cuff,
blonde on the collar? Mr. Nevile Strange


arm round one wife and the other one's head
on his shoulder."

"The blood on the sleeve has gone for
analysis, sir. They'll ring us up as soon as

they get the result."

Leach nodded.

"What about the servants?"

"I followed your instructions, sir. None of
them is under notice to leave, or seems likely
to have borne a grudge against the old lady.
She was strict, but well liked. In any case
the management of the servants lay with Miss
Aldin. She seems to have been popular with
them."

"Thought she was an efficient woman the
moment I laid eyes on her," said Battle. "If
she's our murderess, she won't be easy to
hang."

Jones looked startled.

"But those prints on that niblick, sir,
were "

"I know I know," said Battle. "The sin-gularly
obliging Mr. Strange's. There's a
general belief that athletes aren't over-burdened
by brains (not at all true, by the
way) but I can't believe Nevile Strange is a
complete moron. What about those senna
pods of the maid's?"


servants' bathroom on the second floor. She
used to put 'em in to soak midday and they
stood there until the evening when she went
to bed."

"So that absolutely anybody could get at
them? Anybody inside the house, that is to
say.

Leach said with conviction:

"It's an inside job all right!"

"Yes, I think so. Not that this is one of
those closed-circle crimes. It isn't. Anyone
who had a key could have opened the front
door and walked in. Nevile Strange had that
key last night but it would probably be a
simple matter to have got one cut, or an old
hand could do it with a bit of wire. But
I don't see any outsider knowing about the
bell and that Barrett took senna at night!
That's local inside knowledge! Come along,
Jim, my boy. Let's go up and see this bath-room
and all the rest of it."

They started on the top floor. Here was
a box room full of old broken furniture and
junk of all kinds.

"I haven't looked through this, sir," said
Jones. "I didn't know "

"What you were looking for? Quite right.

C}nlxr xxraet c pounds time Fram the dust on the


floor nobody has been in here for at least six
months."

The servants' rooms were all on this floor,
also two unoccupied bedrooms with a bath-room,
and Battle looked into each room and
gave it a cursory glance noticing that Alice,
the popeyed housemaid, slept with her
window shut; that Emma, the thin one, had
a great many relations, photographs of whom
were crowded on her chest of drawers, and
that Hurstall had one or two pieces of good,
though cracked, Dresden and Crown Derby
porcelain.

The cook's room was severely neat and
the kitchenmaid's chaotically untidy. Battle
passed on into the bathroom which was the
room nearest to the head of the stairs.
Williams pointed out the long shelf over the
washbasin, on which stood tooth glasses and
brushes, various unguents and bottles of salts
and hair lotion. A packet of senna pod stood
open at one end.

"No prints on the glass or packet?"

"Only the maid's own. I got hers from her
room."

"He didn't need to handle the glass," said
Leach. "He'd only have to drop the stuff


Battle went down the stairs followed by


servants' bathroom on the second floor. She
used to put 'em in to soak midday and they
stood there until the evening when she went
to bed."
"So that absolutely anybody could get at
them? Anybody inside the house, that is to
say."
Leach said with conviction:
"It's an inside job all right!"
"Yes, I think so. Not that this is one of
those closed-circle crimes. It isn't. Anyone
who had a key could have opened the front
door and walked in. Nevile Strange had that
key last night but it would probably be a
simple matter to have got one cut, or an old
hand could do it with a bit of wire. But
I don't see any outsider knowing about the
bell and that Barrett took senna at night!
That's local inside knowledge! Come along,
Jim, my boy. Let's go up and see this bathroom
and all the rest of it."
They started on the top floor. Here was
a box room full of old broken furniture and
junk of all kinds.
"I haven't looked through this, sir," said
Jones. "I didn't know "
"What you were looking for? Quite right.
Only waste of time. From the dust on the


floor nobody has been h here for at least six
months."
The servants' rooms ere all on this floor,
also two unoccupied bdrooms wiff a bathroom,
and Baffle look¢ into each room and
gave it a cursory glanct noticing that Alice,
the popeyed housemid, slept with her
window shut; that Em, the thin one, had
a great many rdafions, photographs of whom
were crowded on her ciest of drawers, and
that Hurstall had one 0r two pieces of good,
though cracked, Dresden and Crowa Derby
porcdain.
The cook's room was severely raeat and
the kitchenmaid's chaotically untidy-. Battle
passed on into the batlxoom which was the
room nearest to the head of the stairs.
Williams pointed out te 10ng shelf )ver the
washbasin, on which stood tooth glasses and
brushes, various unguents and bottles of salts
and hair lotion. A packet of senna pod stood
open at one end.
"No prints on the glass or packet?"
"Only the maid's owa. I got hers f'xom her
room,"
"He didn't need to handle the glas," said
Leach. "He'd only have to drop t.e stuff

Battle went down the stairs folio, wed hv


Leach. Halfway down this top flight was
a rather awkwardly placed window. A pole
with a hook on the end stood in a corner.
"You draw down the top sash with
that," explained Leach. "But there's a burglar
screw. The window can be drawn down,
only so far. Too narrow for anyone to get in
that way."

"I wasn't thinking of anyone getting in,"
said Battle. His eyes were thoughtful.
He went into the fzrst bedroom on the
next floor which was Audrey Strange's. It
was neat and fresh, ivory brushes on the
dressing table no clothes lying about. Battle
looked into the wardrobe. Two plain
coats and skirts, a couple of evening dresses,
one or two summer frocks. The dresses were
cheap, the tailormades well cut and expensive
but not new.
Battle nodded. He stood at the writing
table a minute or two, fiddling with the pen
tray on the left of the blotter.
Williams said: "Nothing of any interest on
the blotting paper or in the waste paper
basket."
"Your word's good enough," said Battle.
"Nothing to be seen here."
They went on to the other rooms.
Thomas Royde's was untidy, with clothes


lying about. Pipes and pipe ash on the tables
and beside the bed, where a copy of Kipling's
Kim lay half open.

"Used to native servants clearing up after
him," said Battle. "Likes reading old favor-ites.
Conservative type."

Mary Aldin's room was small but comfort-able.
Battle looked at the travel books on the
shelves and the old-fashioned dented silver
brushes. The furnishing and coloring in the
room were more modern than the rest of the
house.

"She's not so conservative," said Battle.
"No photographs either. Not one who lives
in the past."

There were three or four empty rooms, all
well kept and dusted ready for occupation,
and a couple of bathrooms. Then came Lady
Tressilian's big double room. After that,
reached Dy going down three little steps,
came the two rooms and bathroom occupied
by the Stranges.

Battle did not waste much time in Nevile's


room. He glanced.out of the open casement
window below .which the rocks fell sheer to
the sea. The wew was to the West, towards


Stark Head which rose wild '.and forbidding
out of the sea.

"Gets the afternoon sun," he murmured.


"But rather a grim .morni. g outlook. Nasty
smell of seaweed at l.OW Ucle' too. And that
headland has got a grim loqk' Don't wonder

it attracts suicides?

He passed into the larger room, the door
of which had been unlocked.

Here everything was wild confusion.
Clothes lay about in hea, ps-fflmy under-wear,
stockings, jumpers tried on and dis-carded
a patterned Ser frock thrown
sprawling over the back of a chair. Battle
looked inside the wardro;be. It was full of
furs, evening dresses, shcorts, tennis frocks,
playsuits.

Battle shut the doors gain almost rever-ently.

"Expensive tastes," he remarked. "She

must cost her husband a lot of money."
Leach said darkly:
"Perhaps that's why---2,,

He left the sentence mished.

"Why he needed a ] hundred or rather
fifty thousand pounds? 5 Maybe. We'd better
see, I think, what he hats to say about it."

They went down to tthe library. Tilliams
was dispatched to tell ttt,ae servants they could
get on with the housework. The family were
free to return to their rrooms if they wished.


also that Inspector Leach would like an in-terviewwith
each of them separately starting
with Mr. Nevile Strange.
Whea Williams had gone out of the room.,
Battle md Leach established themselves be.

hind a massive Victorian table. A young
policeman with notebook sat in the corner
the room, his pencil poised.
Barde said:
"Y0a carry on for a start, Jim. Make it
impressive." As the other nodded his heacl,
Battle robbed his chin and frowned.
"I wish I knew what keeps putting Hercule
Poirot into my head."
"You mean that old chap. the Belgian-.- comic
little guy?"
"Comic my foot," said Superintendent
Battle. "About as dangerous as a black
marnba and a she-leopard that's what he is
when he starts making a mountebank of hi.
selflI wish he were here this sort of thirg
would be right up his street."
"In what way?"
"Psychology," said Battle. "Real psychology-not
the haft-baked stuff people hand
out who know nothing about it." His memory
dwelt resentfully on Miss Amphrey and
his daughter, Sylvia' "No..- the real genuine


go round. Keep a murderer talking--that's
one of his lines. Says everyone is bound to
speak what's true sooner or later because

in the end it's easier than telling lies. And

so they make some little slip they don't think
matters and that's when you get them."

"So you're going to give Nevile Strange
plenty of rope?"

Battle gave an absent-minded assent. Then
he added, in some annoyance and perplexity:

"But what's really worrying me is what
put Hercule Poirot into my head? Upstairs
that's where it was. Now what did I see that
reminded me of that little guy?"

The conversation was put to an end by the
arrival of Nevile Strange.

He looked pale and worried, but much
less nervous than he had done at the break-fast
table. Battle eyed him keenly. Incredible
that a man who knew and he must know if
he were capable of any thought processes at
all that he had left his fingerprints on the
instrttment of the crime and who had since
had his fingerprints taken by the police
should show neither intense nervousness nor
an elaborate brazening of it out.

Nevile Strange looked quite natural
shocked, worried, grieved and just slightly
and healthily nervous.


Jim Leach was speaking in his pleasant
West country voice.

"We would like you to answer certain
questions, Mr. Strange. Both as to your
movements last night and in reference to
particular facts. At the same time I must
caution you that you are not bound to an-swer
these questions unless you like and that
if you prefer to do so you may have your
solicitor present."

He leaned back to observe the effect of

this.

Nevile Strange looked, quite plainly, be-wildered.

"He hasn't the least idea what we're get-ting
at, or else he's a damned good actor,"
Leach thought to himself. Aloud he said, as

Nevile did not answer, "Well, Mr. Strange?"
Nevile said:

"Of course, ask me anything you like."
"You realize," said Battle pleasantly, "that
anything you say will be taken down in writ-ing
and may subsequently be used in a court
of law in evidence."

A flash of temper showed on Strange's
face. He said sharply:

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, no, Mr. Strange. Warning you."
Nevile shrugged his shoulders.


"I suppose all this is part of your routine.
Go ahead."

"You are ready to make a statement?"
"If that's what you call it."

"Then will you tell us exactly what you
did last night. From dinner onwards, shall
we say?"

"Certainly. After dinner we went into the
drawing room. We had coffee. We listened
to the wireless the news and so on. Then
I decided to go across to Easterhead Bay
Hotel and look up a chap who is staying
there a friend of mine."

"That friend's name is?"
"Latimer. Edward Latimer."
"An intimate friend?"

"Oh, so, so. We've seen a good deal of
him since he's been down here. He's been
over to lunch and dinner and we've been

over there."

Battle said:

'Rather late, wasn't it, to go off to
Easterhead Bay?"

"Oh, it's a gay spot they keep it up till
all hours."

"But this is rather an early to bed house-hold,
isn't it?"

"Yes, on the whole. However, I took the
latchkey with me. Nobody had to sit ut."


"Your arife didn't think of going with
you?"

There was a slight change, a stiffening in
Nevile's tone as he said:

"No, she had a. headache. She'd already
gone up to bed."

"Please go on, Mr. Strange."

"I was just going up to change."

Leach interrupted.

"Excuse me, Mr. Strange. Change into
what? Int0 evening dress or out of evening

dress?"

"Neither. I was wearing a blue suit my
best, as it happened, and as it was raining
a bit and I proposed to take the ferry and
walk the other side it's about half a mile, as
you know--I changed into an older suit a
grey pin stripe if you want me to go into
every detsil."

"We do like to get things clear," said
Leach humbly. "Please go on."

"I was going upstairs, as I say, when
Hurstall came and told me Lady Tressilian
wanted to see me, so I went along and had

a a jaw with her for a bit."

Battle said gently:

"You were the last person to see her alive,
I think, Mr. Strange?"

Nevile flushed.


"Yes yes I suppose I was. She was
quite all right then."

"How long were you with her?"

"About twenty minutes to half an hour,
I should think, then I went to my room,
changed my suit and hurried off. I took the
latchkey with me."

"What time was that?"

"About half past ten, I should think. I
hurried down the hill, just caught the ferry
starting and went on as planned. I found
Latimer at the Hotd, we had a drink or two
and a game of billiards. The time passed
so quickly that I found I'd lost the last ferry
back. It goes at one thirty. So Latimer very
decently got out his car and drove me back.
That, as you know, means going all the way
round by Saltington sixteen miles. We left
the Hotel at two o'clock and got back here
somewhere around half past, I should say. I
thanked Ted Latimer, asked him in for a
drink, but he said he'd rather get straight
back, so I let myself in and went straight up
to bed. I didn't hear or see anything amiss.
The house seemed all asleep and peaceful.
Then this morning I heard that girl scream-ing
and "

Leach stopped him.


-your conversation with Lady Tressilian she
was qmte normal in her marmot>"
"Oh, absolutely."
"What did you talk'about?"
"Oh, one thing and another."
"AmicablY?"
Nevile flushed.
"Certainly."
"You didn't for instance," went on Leach
smoothly, "have a violent quarrel?"
Nevile did not answer at once. Leach said:
i,.."Y.o.u had better tell the truth, you know.
n ten you frankly some of your conversation
was overheard."
Nevile said shortly:
"We had a bit of a disagreement. It was
nothing."
"What was the subject of the disagreement?''

With an effort Nevile recovered his temper.
He smiled.

T'Fr ady," he said, "she ticked me off.
at often happened. If .she disapproved of
anyone she let them have t straight from the
	Shoulder.

		She .was old-fashioned, you see,

and she was reclined to be down on modem
Ways
	and modem
Voree-all that. We hl}ns.°f thought--di-


"No, Mr.
handled it in
it to strike
marks."


perfectly friendly terms agreeing to differ."
He added, with some heat, "I certainly didn't
bash her over the head because I lost my
temper over an argument if that's what you
think?'

Leach glanced at Battle. Battle leaned for-ward
ponderously across the table. He said:

"You recognized that niblick as your prop-erty
this morning. Have you any explanation
for the fact that your fingerprints were found
upon it?"

Nevile stared. He said sharply:

"I .but of course they would be it's my
club . ..I've often handled it."

"Any explanation, I mean, for the fact
that your fingerprints show that you were the
last person to have handled it."

Nevile sat quite still. The color had gone
out of his face.

"That's not true," he said at last. "It can't
be. Somebody could have handled it after
me someone wearing gloves."

Strange nobody could have
the sense you mean .by raising

without blurring your own


There was a pause


a very long pause.


.gave a long shudder..He put his hands over
his eyes. The two policemen watched him.
Then he took away his hands. He sat up
straight.

isn]'It isn't true," he said ui "It
	t true. You think I q'-"tl'Y' simply
	,
	.
	r, mea her, but .I
	didn t: I swear I didn't. There's some homble
rmstake."

"You've no explanation to offer about those
£mgerprints ?"

"How can I have? I' ,,.-.Lr .
m ,,.mtouncled.-"Have
you any explanataon for the fact
that the sleeves and cuffs of your dark blue
suit are stained with blood?"
"Blood?" It was a horror-struck whisper.
"It couldn't be!"
"You didn't, for instance, cut yourself---"
"No. No, of course I didn't!"
They waited a little while.
Nevile Strange, his forehead creased,
seemed to be thinking. He looked up at
them at last with frightened horrorstricken
eyes.
"It's fantastic!" he said. "Simply fantastic.
It's none of it true."
"Facts are true enough," said Superintentlent
Battl,


	unthinkable unbelievable! I've know

	milla all my life."

	Leach coughed.

"I believe you told us yourself, r
Strange, that you come into a good demeanor
money upon Lady Tressilian's death?" °

	"You think that's why
	But I don't I't wt

	money! I don't need it!"

	"That," said Leach, with his little

	"is what you say, Mr. Strange."

Nevile sprang up.

"Look here, that's something I can p:oro,e.
That I didn't need money. Let me ring
up my bank manager--you can talk too
yourself."

The call was put through. The line-' Was
clear and in a very few minutes they 'Were
through to London. Nevile spoke:

"That you, Ronaldson? Nevile Str:'ange
speaking. You know my voice. Look .l:here,
will you give the police they're here noow
all the information they want about my al.
fairs Yes Yes, please."

Leach took the phone. He spoke quketly.

It went on, question and answer.
He replaced the phone at last.
"Well," said Nevile eagerly.

Leach said impassively, "You have a
substantial credit balance, and the bank has


you'll agree, Mr. Strange, to ask for a war

charge
of all your investments and reports

them to be in a favorable condition."

"So you see it's true what I said!"

"It seems so but again, Mr. Strange, you
may have commitments, debts payment of
blackmail reasons for requiring money of
which we do not know."

"But I haven't! I assure you I haven't.
You won't find anyttfing of that kind."

Superintendent Battle shifted his heavy
shoulders. He spoke in a kind fatherly voice.

"We've sufficient evidence, as I'm sure


rant for your arrest. We haven't done so
as yet.t We're giving you the benefit of the
doubt, you see."

Nevile said bitterly:

"You mean, don't you, that you've made
up your minds I did it, but you want to get
at the motive so as to clinch the case against
me?"

Battle was silent. Leach looked at the ceil-ing.

Nevile said desperately:

"It's like some awful dream. There's noth-ing
I can say or do. It's like being in a trap
and you can't get out."

Suterintendent Battle stirred. An intelli

gent gleam showed between his half-closed

lids.

	"That's very nicely put," he said. "Very

nicely put indeed. It gives me an idea 	"


VI


Sergeant
Jones adroitly got rid of Ne
ile through the hall and dining room and
then brought Kay in by the French window
so that husband and wife did not
meet.
"He'll see all the others, though,"
Leaach
remarked.
"All the better," said Battle. "It's
o0nly this one I want to deal with whilst she's
sstill in the
dark."
The day was overcast with a sharp
w',tind.

Kay was dressed in a tweed skirt
n.d a purple sweater above
which her hair 10obked like a burnished
copper bowl. She 10obked half frightened, half
excited. Her beauty: and vitality bloomed
against the dark Victorian
background of books and saddleback charles.
Leach led her
easily enough over her r
ac-count of the previous evening.
She had had a
headache and gone to , bed early about
quarter past nine, she th0u. l
ght'
She
had
slet

t
heavilv
and
heard
nothi

e


til the next morning when she was wakened
by heating someone screaming.

Battle took up the questioning.

"Your husband didn't come in to see how

you were before he went off for the eve/ing?"
"No.'

"You didn't see him from the time you
left the drawing room until the following

morning. Is that right?"

Kay nodded.

Battle stroked his jaw.

"Mrs. Strange, the door between your
room and that of your husband was locked.
Who locked it?"

Kay said shortly: "I did."

Baffle said nothing but he waited
waited like an elderly fatherly cat for a
mouse to come out of the hole he was watch-ing.

His silence did what questions might not
have accomplished. Kay burst out impetu-ously:

"Oh, I suppose you've got to have it all!
That old doddenng Hurstall must have heard
us before tea and he'll tell you if I don't.
He's probably told you already. Nevile and I
had had a row a flaming row! I was furious
With him! I went un to bed and locked the


door because I was still in a flaming rage
with him!"

"I see I see," said Battle at his most
sympathetic. "And what was the trouble all
about?"

"Does it matter? Oh, I don't mind telling
you. Nevile has been behaving like a perfect
idiot. It's all that woman's fault, though."

"What woman?"

"His first wife. She got him to come here
in the first place."

"You mean to meet you?"

"Yes. Nevile thinks it was all his own
idea poor innocent! But it wasn't. He never
thought of such a thing until he met her in
the Park one day and she got the idea into
his head and made him believe he'd thought
of it himself. He quite honestly thinks it was
his idea, but I've seen Audrey's fine Italian
hand behind it from the first."

"Why should she do such a thing?" asked
Battle.

"Because she wanted to get hold of him
again," said Kay. She spoke quickly and her
breath came fast. "She's never forgiven him
for going off with me. This is her revenge.
She got him to fix up that we'd all be here
together and then she got to work on him.
She's been doine it ever since we arrived.


She's clever, you know. Knows just how to
look pathetic and elusive yes, and how to
play up another man, too. She got Thomas
Royde, a faithful old dog who's always adored
her, to be here at the same time, and she
drove Nevile mad by pretending she was
going to marry him."

She stopped, breathing angrily.

Battle said mildly:

"I should have thought he'd be glad for
her to er find happiness with an old
friend."

"Glad? He's jealous as hell!"

"Then he must be very fond of her."

"Oh, he is," said Kay bitterly. "She's seen
to that!"

Battle's f'mger still ran dubiously over his

jaW.

"You might have objected to this arrange-ment
of coming here?" he suggested.

"How could I? It would have looked as
though I were jealous!"

"Well," said Battle, "after all, you were,
weren't you?"

Kay flushed.

"Always! I've always been

Audrey. Right from the beginning
the beginning. I used to feel her there in
the house. It was as though it were her house,


jealous of
or nearly


not mine. I changed the color scheme ,t
did it all up but it was no good! I'd feel h:


there like a grey ghost Creeping about. I
knew Nevile worried because he thought


he'd treated her badly. He couldn't quite
forget about her she was always there--a
reproachful feeling at the back of his mind.
There are people, you know, who are like
that. They seem rather colorless and not very

interesting but they make themselves felt."
Battle nodded thoughtfully. He said:
"Well, thank you, Mrs. Strange. That's all
at present. We have to ask er a good
many questions especially with your hus-band
inheriting so much money from Lady
Tressilian fifty thousand pounds "

"Is it as much as that? We get it from old

Sir Matthew's will, don't we?"

"You know all about it?"

"Oh, yes. He left it to be divided be-tween
Nevile and Nevile's wife. Not that I'm
glad the old thing is dead. I'm not. I didn't
like her very much probably because she
didn't like me but it's too horrible to think
of some burglar coming along and cracking
her head open."

She went out on that. Battle looked at
Leach.

"What do you think of her? Good-lookine


bit of goods, I will say. A man could lose his
head over her easy enough."
Leach agreed.
"Doesn't seem to be quite a lady, though,"
he said dubiously.
"They aren,t nowadays," said Battle.
"Shall we see No. 1 ? No, I think we'll have
Miss Aldin next, and get an outside angle on
this matrimonial business."
Mary Aldin came in composedly and sat
down. Beneath her outward calmness her
eyes looked worried.
She answered Leach's questions clearly
enough, confirming Nevile's account of the
evening. She had come up to bed about ten
o'clock.
"Mr. Strange was then with Lady Tressilian?"
"Yes, I could hear them talking."
"Talking, Miss Aldin, or quarreling?"
She flushed but answered quietly:
"Lady Tressilian, you know, was fond of
discussion. She often sounded acrimonious
when she was really nothing of the kind. Also, she was inclined to be autocratic and
to domineer over people and a .man doesn't
take that kind of thing as easily as a woman
does."
"As you do, perhaps," thought Battle.


He lot)ked at her intelligent face. It was
who broke the silence.
she"I don't wmt to be stupid---but it really
seems to rn incredible--quite increbl.e,
that you sh.Uld suspect one of the people m
this houge. WIy shouldn't it be an outsider?"
"For sever reasons, Miss Aldin. For one
thing, nothdng was taken and no entry was
forced. I reedn't remind you of the geography
t)f 5oor own house and grounds, but
just bea thfis in mind. On the west is a sheer
cliff down to the sea, to the south are a
couple cfi t, erraces with a wall and a drop to
the sea, or tlxe east the garden slopes down
almost t:o 'tahe shore, but it is surrounded by
a high xval. The only ways out are a small
door ledirg through on to the road which
was foumd bolted inside as usual this morning
and thee main door to the house which is
set on te :road. I'm not saying no one could
climb tlhat wall, nor that they could not have
got m ly rasing a spare k.ey t°.,the frothrt
or even a tskeleton key--bu.t m say g ,
as far aB I can see no one did do anythi., g o.
the sort, XWhoever committed this crime elmvy
at Ba:axe'.tt took senna pod infusion .
mght ad doped it---that means someo--ne, hme
the hose. The niblick was tagen from
cupboard under the stairs.
vid, Mbs Aldin."
"It wasn't Nevile! I'm
Nevile!"
"Why are you so sure?"
She raised her hands hopelessly.
"It just isn't like him that's why!
wouldn't kill a defenseless old woman
bed Nev//e!"
"It doesn't

It wasn't an out-

sure it wasn't

He

seem very likely," said Battle
reasonably, "but you'd be surprised at the
things people do when they've got a good
enough reason. Mr. Strange may have wanted
money very badly."
"I'm sure he didn't. He's not an extravagant
person he never has been."
"No, but his wife is."
"Kay? Yes, perhaps but, oh, it's too ridiculous.
I'm sure the last thing Nevile has
been thinking of lately is money."
Superintendent Battle coughed.
"He's had other worries, I understand?"
"Kay told you, I suppose? Yes, it really
has been rather difficult. Still, it's nothing to
do with this dreadful business."
"Probably not, but all the same I'd like to
hear your version of the affair, Miss Aldin."
Mary said slowly:
"Well, as I saw. it ha.


situation. Whoever's idea it was to begin
with "

He interrupted her deftly.

"I understood it was Mr. Nevile Strange's
idea?"

"He said it was."

"But you yourself didn't think so?"

"I no. it isn't like Nevile somehow. I've
had a feeling all along that somebody else
put the idea into his head."

"Mrs. Audrey Strange, perhaps?"

"It seems incredible that Audrey should
do such. a thing."

"Then who else could it have been?"
Mary raised her shoulders helplessly.
"I don't know. It's just-queer."

"Queer," said Battle thoughtfully. "That's
what I feel about this case. It's queer."

"Everything's been queer. There's been
a feeling I can't describe it. Something in
the air. A menace."

"Everybody stnmg up ad on edge?"


	"Ye.s, just that 	We've
all suffered
	·
	'
-"' '
S
from t. Even Mr. Laurne
he stopped.

"I was just coming to
. Latimer. What can you tell me,
Miss
Aldin,
about
Mr.
	'r	·	?,,
Latimer?
Who is Mr. Lanner
"Well, really, I
don't
how
much
about


."He's Mrs. Stranee's friend? Known each
other a long time?" '
"Yes,
"Nix.
	she kne.w., him before her marriage."
trange like him?"
"Quite well, I believe."
"No--trouble there?"
Battle put it .delicately. Mary replied at
once and emphaucally:
"Certainly not!"
"Did Lady Tressilian like Mr. Latimer?"
"Not very much."
h Battl. e took warning from the aloof tone of
er voice and changed the su '
	"TM- '	bject.

		ms maa, now, J.ane Barrett., she has

	been with Lady Tressan a long time? You

	consider her trustworthy?,,

	"Oh, absolutely. She was devoted to Lady

Tressilian."

	Battle leaned back in his ch;
	m'mInenfa,ct
you-.w..ouldn't cnnider, for a

	· t the possibility that Barrett hit Lad.

	T,r?silian .over .the head and then do,,a .Y
set to avoid being suspected?"
	v-,, -c-
"Of course not. Why on earth should she?"
"She gets a legacy, you know."
"So do I," said Mary Aldin.
She looked at him steadily.


"Mr. Trelawny has just arrived. He told
me."
"You didn't know about it beforehand?"
"No. I certainly assumed, from what Lady
Tressilian occasionally let fall, that she had
left me something. I have very little of my
own, you know. Not enough to live on without
getting work of some kind. I thought
that Lady Tressilian would leave me at least
a hundred a year .. but she has some cousins
and I did not at all know how she proposed to leave that money which was hers to dispose
of. I knew, of course, that Sir Matthew's
estate went to Nevile and Audrey."
"So she didn't know what Lady Tressilian
was leaving her," Leach said when Mary
Aldin had been dismissed. "At least that's
what she says."
"That's what she says," agreed Battle.
"And now for Bluebeard's first wife."

VII

Audrey was wearing a pale grey flannel coat
and skirt. In it she looked so pale and ghostlike
that Battle was reminded of Kay's words,
"A grey ghost creeping about the house."


	She antswered his questions simply and

without amy signs of emotion.

	Yes, sine had gone to bed at ten o'clock,

	the same 'time as Miss Aldin. She had heard

	nothing dturing the night.

	"You'llt excuse me butting into your pri
	vate affaiirs," said Battle, "but will you

	explain jutst how it comes about that you are

	here in the house?"

	"I always come to stay at this time. This

	year, my my late husband wanted to come

	at the sane time and asked me if I would

	mind."

	"It was his suggesuon.

	"Oh, yes."

		"Not yours?"
		"Oh, ILO."

		"But you agreed?"
	"Yes, I agreed 	I
didn't feel that
I
could very well refuse."
"Why
not, Mrs. Strange?" But
she was vague.
"One
doesn't like to be disobliging." "You
were the injured party?" "I
beg your pardon?"
"It
was you who divorced your husband?" "Yes."
"Do you--excuse me--feel any rancor a
ainst
him?"


"No -nt at all."
"You have a very forgiving nature, Mrs.
Strange."
She did not answer. He fried silence but
Audrey Was not Kay to be thus goaded into
speech. Se could remain silent without any
hint of un,,asiness. Baffle acknowledged himself
beater.
"You axe sure it was not your idea this
meeting?'*
"Quite sure."
"You axe on friendly tes with the pre-ent
Mrs. :Strange?"
"I dont think she likes rae very much."
"Do Y%u like her?"
"Yes. 1I think she is verY beautiful."
"Well-thank you -I that is all."
She g%t up and w-alkedtowards the doo00r.
Then shee hesitated and ce back.
"I wculd just like to say "she spo!lke
nervousl,-y and quickly. 'You think Nevi-:ile
did thisthat he killed er because of -t-she
money. I'm quite sure 0t isn't so. New,Ale
has nev.er cared much ,bout money. I . do
know tat. I was marrid to. him for eilight
years, ou know. I justan't see him kz$illing
anycone like that for 0ney it it is:sn't


great value as evidence but I do wish you
would believe it."


She turned and hurried out of the room.
"And what do you make of her?" asked
Leach. "I've never seen anyone so so de-void
of emotion."

"She didn't show any," said Battle. "But
it's there. Some very strong emotion. And
I don't know what it is... ."


VIII


Thomas Royde came last. He sat, solemn
and stiff, blinking a little like an owl.

He was home from Malaya first time for
eight years. Had been in the habit of stay-lng
at Gull's Point ever since he was a boy.
Mrs. Audrey Strange was a distant cousin
and had been brought up by his family from
the age of nine. On the preceding night he
had gone to bed just before eleven. Yes, he
had heard Mr. Nevile Strange leave the house
but had not seen him. Nevile had left at
about twenty past ten or perhaps a little
later. He himself had heard nothing during
the night. He was up and in the garden
when the discovery of Lady Tressilian's body
had been made. He was an early riser.


There was a pause.
"Miss Aldin has told us that there was a
state of tension in the house. Did you notice
this too?"
"I don't think so. Don't notice things
much."
"That's a lie," thought Battle to himself.
"You notice a good deal, I should say more
than most."
No, he didn't think Nevile Strange had
been short of money in any way. He certainly
had not seemed so. But he knew very
little about Mr. Strange's affairs.
"How well did you know the second Mrs. Strange?"
"I met her here for the first time."
Battle played his last card.
"You may know, Mr. Royde, that we've
found Mr. Nevile Strange's fingerprints on
the weapon. And we've found blood on the
sleeve of the coat he wore last night."
He paused. Royde nodded.
"He was telling us," he muttered.
"I'm asking you frankly: Do you think he
did it?"
Thomas Royde never liked to be hurried.
He waited for a minute which is a very
long time before he answered:
"Don't see why you ask me? Not my


business. It's yours. Should say myself very

tm ikely."

"Can you think of anyone who seems to
you more likely?"

Thomas shook his head.

"Only person I think likely can't possibly

have done it. So that's that."

"And who is that?"

But Royde shook his head more decid-edly.

"Couldn't possibly say. Only my private
opinion."

"It's your duty to assist the police."

"Tell you any facts. This isn't fact. Just
idea. And it's impossible, anyway."

"We didn't get much out of him," said

Leach when Royde had gone.

Battle agreed.

"No, we didn't. He's got something in his
mind something quite definite. I'd like to
know what it is. This is a very peculiar sort
of crime, Jim, my boy "

The telephone rang before Leach could
answer. He took up the receiver and spoke.
After a minute or two of listening he said
"Good," and slammed it down.

"Blood on the coat sleeve is human," he
announced. "Same blood groul as Lady T.'s.


Looks as though Nevile Strange is in for
it "

Battle had walked over to the window and
was looking out with considerable interest.

"A beautiful young man out there," he
remarked. "Quite beautiful and a definite
wrong 'un, I should say. It's a pity Mr. Lati-mer
for I feel that that's Mr. Latimer was
over at Easterhead Bay last night. He's the
type that would smash in his own grand-mother's
head if he thought he could get
away with it and if he knew he'd make some-thing
out of it."

"Well, there wasn't anything in it for
him," said Leach. "Lady T.'s death doesn't
benefit him in any way whatever." The tele-phone
bell rang again. "Damn this phone,

what's the matter now?"

He went to it.

"Hullo. Oh, it's you, Doctor? What? Come
round, has she? What? What?"

He turned his head. "Uncle, just come
and listen to this."

Battle came over and took the phone. He
listened, his face as usual showing no expres-sion.
He said to Leach:

"Get Nevile Strange, Jim."

When Nevile came in, Battle was just
replacing the phone on its hook.


Nevile, looking white and spent, stared
curiously at the Scotland Yard Superinten-dent,
trying to read the emotion behind the
wooden mask.

"Mr. Strange," said Battle. "Do you know

anyone who dislikes you very much?"
Nevile stared and shook his head.

"Sure?" Battle was impressive. "I mean,

sir, someone who does more than dislike you
someone who frankly hates your guts?"
Nevile sat bolt upright.

"No. No, certainly not. Nothing of the
kind."

"Think, Mr. Strange. Is there no one

you've injured in any way "

Nevile flushed.

"There's only one person I can be said
to have injured and she's not the kind who
bears rancor. That's my first wife when I
left her for another woman. But I can assure
you that she doesn't hate me. She's she's
been an angel."

The Superintendent leaned forward across
the table.

"Let me tell you, Mr. Strange; you're a
very lucky man. I don't say I liked the case
against you I didn't. But it was a case! It
would have stood up all right, and unless the


jury happened to have liked your personality,
it would have hanged you."
"You speak," said Nevile, "as though all
that were past?"

"It is past," said Battle. "You've been
saved, Mr. Strange, by pure chance."

Nevile still looked inquiringly at him.
"After you left her last night," said Battle,
"Lady Tressilian rang the bell for her maid."
He watched whilst Nevile took it in. "After .... Then Barrett saw her "
"Yes. Alive and well. Barrett also saw you
leave the house before she went in to her
mistress."
Nevile said:
"But the niblick my fingerprints "
"She wasn't hit with that niblick. Dr.
Lazenby didn't like it at the time. I saw that.
She was killed with something else. That
niblick was put there deliberately to throw
suspicion on you. It may be by someone who
overheard the quarrel and so selected you as
a suitable victim, or it may be because"
He paused, and then repeated his question:
"Who is there in this house that hates


IX


"I've got a question for you, Doctor," said
Battle.

They were in the doctor's house after re-turning
from the nursing home where they
had had a short interview with Jane Barrett.

Barrett was weak and exhausted but quite
clear in her statement.

She had been just getting into bed after
drinking her senna when Lady Tressilian's
bell had rung. She had glanced at the clock
and seen the time twenty-five minutes past
ten.

She had put on her dressing gown and
come down. She had heard a noise in the
hall below and had looked over the balusters.

"It was Mr. Nevile just going out. He was

taking his raincoat down from the hook."
"What suit was he wearing?"

"His grey pin stripe. His face was very
worried and unhappy-looking. He shoved
his arms into his coat as though he didn't
care how he put it on. Then he went out and
banged the front door behind him. I went
on in to her ladyship. She was very drowsy,
poor dear, and couldn't remember why she
had rung for me she couldn't always, poor
ladv. But I beat ut her tillows and brought


her a fresh glass of water and settled her
COortably.,,

"8he didn't seem upset or afraid of


"lust tired, that's all. I was tired myself.
Yahaing. I went up and went right off to
slei ,,

· ]at was Barrett's story and it seemed
Impossible to doubt her genuine grief and
honor at the news of her mistress' death.

ey went back to Lazenby's house and it
wa then that Battle announced that he had a

question to ask.

"Ask away," said Lazenby.

"What time do you think Lady Tressilian

die l?,,

."I've told you. Between ten o'clock and


rmght."

know that's what you said. But it wasn't


my question. I asked you what you, personall,
thought?"

Off the record, eh?"

"Yes."

i'All right· My guess would be in the


nejhborhood of eleven o'clock."

"That's what I wanted you to say," said
Battle.

'Glad to oblige. Why?"

Nloxrov did like the idea of her beine


killed before 10.20. Take Barrett's sleeping
draught it wouldn't have got to work by
then. That sleeping draught shows that the
murder was meant to be committed a good
deal later during the night. I'd prefer mid-night,
myself."

"Could be. Eleven is only a guess."

"But it definitely couldn't be later than
midnight?"


"It couldn't be after 2.30?"

"Good heavens, no."

"Well, that seems to let Strange out all
right. I'll just have to check up on his move-ments
after he left the house. If he's telling
the truth, he's washed out and we can go on
to our other suspects."

"The other people who inherit money?"
suggested Leach.

"Maybe," said Battle. "But somehow, I
don't think so. Someone with a kink, I'm
looking for."

"A kink?"

"A nasty kink."


When they left the doctor's house they went
down to the ferry. The ferry consisted of
a rowing boat operated by two brothers, Will
and George Barnes. The Barnes brothers


knew everybody in Saltcreek by sight and
most of the people who came over from
Easterhead Bay. George said at once that
Mr. Strange from Gull's Point had gone
across at 10.30 on the preceding night. No,
he had not brought Mr. Strange back again.
Last ferry had gone at 1.30 from the
Easterhead side and Mr. Strange wasn't on
it.

Battle asked him if he knew Mr. Latimer.
"Latimer? Latimer? Tall, handsome young
gentleman? Comes over from the hotel up
to Gull's Point? Yes, I know him. Didn't see
him at all last night, though. He's been over
this morning. Went back last trip."

They crossed on the ferry and went up to
the Easterhead Bay Hotel.

Here they found Mr. Latimer newly re-turned
from the other side. He had crossed
on the ferry before theirs.

Mr. Latimer was very anxious to do all he
could to help.

"Yes, old Nevile came over last night.
Looked very blue over something. Told me
he'd had a row with the old lady. I hear
he'd fallen out with Kay too, but he didn't
tell me that, of course. Anyway, he was a bit
down in the mouth. Seemed quite glad of


"He wasn't able to find you at once, I
understand?"
Latimer said sharply:
"Don't know why. I was sitting in the
lounge. Strange said he looked in and didn't
see me, but he wasn't in a state to concentrate.
Or I may have strolled out into the
gardens for five .minutes or so. Always get
out when I can. Beastly smell in this hotel.
Noticed it last night in the bar. Drains, I
think! Strange mentioned it too! We both
smelt it. Nasty decayed smell. Might be a
dead rat under the billiard room floor."
"You played billiards, and after your
game?"
"Oh, we talked a bit, had another drink
or two. Then Nevile said, 'Hullo, I've missed
the ferry,' so I said I'd get out my car and
drive him back, which I did. We got there
about 2.30."
"And Mr. Strange was with you all the
evening?"
"Oh, yes. Ask anybody. They'll tell you.'
"Thank you, Mr. Latimer. We have to be
8o careful."
Leach said as they left the smiling, self-possessed
young man:
"What's the idea of checking up so care
Battle smiled. Leach got it suddenly.

"Good Lord, it's the other one you're
checking up on. So that's your idea."

"It's too soon to have ideas," said Bat-fie.
"I've just got to know exactly where
Mr. Ted Latimer was last night. We know
that from quarter past eleven say to after
midnight he was with Nevile Strange. But
where was he before that when Strange ar-rived
and couldn't find him?"

They pursued their inquiries doggedly--with
bar attendants, waiters, lift boys. Lati-mer
had been seen in the lotmge room be-tween
nine and ten. He had been in the bar
at a quarter past ten. But between that time
and eleven twenty, he seemed to have been
singularly elusive. Then one of the maids
was found who declared that Mr. Latimer
had been "in one of the small writing rooms
with Mrs.' Beddoes.. that's the fat North
country lady."

Pressed as to time she said she thought it
was about deven o'clock.

"That tears it," said Battle gloomily.
"He was here all fight. Just didn't want
attention drawn to his fat (and no doubt
rich) lady friend. That throws us back on
those others the servants, Kay Strange,
Audrey Strange, Mary Aldin and Thomas


Royde. One of them killed the old lady, but
which? If we could f'md the real weapon "

He stopped, then slapped his thigh.
"Got it, Jim, my boy! I know now what
made me think of Hercule Po'trot. We'll have
a spot of lunch and go back to Gull's Point
and I'll show you something."

X

Mary Aldin was restless. She went in and
out of the house, picked off a dead dahlia
head here and there, went back into the
drawing room and shifted flower vases in an
unmeaning fashion.
From the library came a vague murmur
of voices. Mr. Trelawny was in there with
Nevile. Kay and Audrey were nowhere to be

seen.

Mary went out in the garden again. Down
by the wall she spied Thomas Royde placidly
smoking. She went and joined him.
"Oh, dear." She sat down beside him with
a deep perplexed sigh.
"Anything the matter?" Thomas asked.
Mary laughed with a slight note of hysteria
in the laugh.
"Nobody but you would say a thine like


tat. A murder in the house and you juust
Sy, 'Is anything the matter?'"

Looking a little surprised, Thomas said:::
"I meant anything fresh?"

"Oh, I know what you meant. It's reallyy a
onderfifi relief to f'md anyone so glofiomsly
Jst-the-same-as-usual as you are!"

"Not much good, is it, getting all het up
OVer things?"

"No, no. You're eminently sensible. IIt's
hw you manage to do it beats me."


"Well, I suppose I'm an outsider."
"That's true, of course. You can't feel 'the
rlief all the rest of us do that Nevile is
Cleared."

"I'm very pleased he is, of course,'.' sd
Royde.

Mary shuddered.

"It was a very near thing. If Camilla hadn't
taken it into her head to ring the bell flor
Barrett after Nevile had left her "

She left the sentence unfinished. Thomas
f'hfished it for her.

"Then old Nevile would have been in for
it all right."

He spoke with a certain grim satisfaction,
then shook his head with a slight smile, as
he met Mary's reproachful gaze.


"I'm not realiv heartless, but now that


Nevile's all right I can't help being pleased
he had a bit of a shaking up. He's always so
danmed complacent."

"He isn't really, Thomas."

"Perhaps not. It's just his manner. Any-way
he was looking scared as hell this mom
ing!"

"What
a creel streak you have!"

"Well, he's all fight now. You know,
Mary, even here Nevile has had the devil's
own luck. Some other poor beggar with all
that evidence piled up against him mightn't

have had such a break."

Mary shivered again.

"Don't say that. I like to think the inno-cent
are protected."

"Do you, my dear?" His voice was gentle.
Mary burst out suddenly.

"Thomas, I'm worried. I'm frightfully

worried."

"Yes."

"It's about Mr. Treves."

Thomas dropped his pipe on the stones.

His voice changed as he bent to pick it up.
"What about Mr. Treves?"

"That night he was here that story he
told about a little murderer! I've been
wondering, Thomas .... Was it just a story?
Or did he tell it with a turtxse?"


"You mean," said Royde deliberately,
"was it aimed at someone who was in the
room?"
	Mary whispered, "Yes."
	Thomas said quietly:
"I've been wondering, too. As a matter of
fact that was what I was thinking about when
you came along just now."
	Mary half closed her eyes.
	"I've been trying to remember 	He
told
it, you know, so very deliberately ....
He
almost dragged it into the conversation. And
he said he would recognize the person anywhere.
He emphasized that. As though he
had recognized him."
"Mm,"
said Thomas. "I've been through all
that."
"But
why should he do it? What was the point?"
	"I
suppose," said Royde, "it was a kind of

warning.
Not to try anything on."
"You
mean that Mr. Treves knew then that
Camilla was going to be murdered?"
"No.
I think that's too fantastic. It may have
been just a general warning."
"What
I've been wondering is, do you think
we ought to tell the police?"
To
that Thomas again gave his thoughtful consideration.


"I think not," he said at last. "I don't
see that t s relevant ..m any way. It s not as
though Treves were alive and could tell them

"No," said Mary. "He's dead? She gave
a quick shiver. "It's so odd, Thomas, the
way he died."
"Heart attack. He had a bad heart."
"I mean that curious business about the
lift being out of order. I don't like it."
"I don't like it very much myself," said
Thomas Royde.

XI

Superintendent Battle looked round the bedroom.
The bed had been made. Otherwise
the room was unchanged. It had been neat
when they first looked round it. It was neat
now.
"That's it," said Superintendent Battle,
pointing to the old-fashioned steel fender.
"Do you see anything odd about that
fender?"
"Must take some cleaning," said Jim
Leach. "It's well kept. Nothing odd about
it that I can see, except--yes, the left-hand
knob is brighter than the right-hand one."


"That's what put Hercule Poirot into my
head," said Battle. "You know his fad about
things not being quite symmetrical gets
him all worked up. I suppose I thought un-consciously,
'That would worry old Poirot,'
and then I began talking about him. Got
your fingerprint kit, Jones? We'll have a look
at those two knobs."

Jones reported presently.

"There are prints on the right-hand knob,
sir, none on the left."

"It's the left one we want, then. Those
other prints are the housemaid's when she
last cleaned it. That left-hand one has been
cleaned since."

"There was a bit of screwed-up emery
paper in this wastepaper basket," volunteered
Jones. "I didn't think it meant anything."

"Because you didn't know what you were
looking for, then. Gently now, I'll bet any-thing
you like that knob unscrews yes, I
thought so."

Presently Jones held the knob up.

"It's a good weight," he said, weighing it
in his hands.

Leach, bending over it, said:

"There's something dark on the screw."

"Blood, as likely as not," said Battle.
"Cleaned the knob itself and witted it and


that little stain on the screw wasn't noticed.
I'll bet anything you like that's the weapon
that caved the old lady's skull in. But there's
more to find. It's up to you, Jones, to search
the house again. This time you'll know exactly
what you're looking for."
He gave a few swift detailed instructions.
Going to the window, he put his head out.
"There's something yellow tucked into the
ivy. That may be another piece of the puzzle.
I rather think it is."

XII

Crossing the hall, Superintendent Battle was
waylaid by Mary Aldin.
"Can I speak to you a minute, Superintendent?''
"Certainly, Miss Aldin. Shall we come in
here?"
He threw open the dining-room door.
Lunch had been cleared away by Hurstall.
"I want to ask you something, Superintendent.
Surely you don't, you can't still think
that this that awfixl crime was done by one
of us? It must have been someone from outside!
Some maniac!"
"You mav not be far wrone there. Miss


criminal very well if I'm not4nistaken.
not an outsider."

is

Maniac is a word that describes this
But

Her eyes opened very wdde.
"Do you mean that somaeone in this house
is mad?"
"You're thinking," sai'd the Superintendent,
"of someone foamin at the mouth and
rolling their eyes. Mania isn't like that. Some
of the most dangerous c 'nrminal lunatics have
looked as sane as you or I. It's a question,
usually, of having an obssession. One idea,
preying on the mind, gradually distorting it.
Pathetic, reasonable peopl.le who come up to
you and explain how th,.ey're being persecuted
and how everyone is spying on them
and you sometimes feel it must all be true."
"I'm sure nobody here has any ideas of
being persecuted."
"I only gave that as an instance. There
are other forms of insarity. But I believe
whoever committed this ccime was under the
domination of one fixed idea an idea on
which they had brooded until literally
nothing else mattered oc had any importance.''
Mary shivered. She said:
"There's something, I think, you ought to


Concisely and clearly she told him of Mr.
Treves' visit to dinner and of the story he
had told. Superintendent Battle was deeply
interested. "He said he could recognize this
person? man or woman, by the way?"

"I took it that it was a boy the story was
about but it's true Mr. Treves didn't actu-ally
say so in fact I remember now he
distinctly stated he would not give any par-ticulars
as to sex or age."

"Did he? Rather significant, perhaps. And
he said there was a definite physical peculiar-ity
by which he could be sure of knowing

this child anywhere."

"Yes."

"A scar, perhaps has anybody here got a

SCar?"

He noticed the faint' hesitation before Mary
Aldin replied:

"Not that I have noticed."

"Come now, Miss Aldin." He smiled.
"You have noticed something. If so, don't
you think that I shall be able to notice it,
too?"

She shook her head.

"I I haven't noticed anything of the
kind."

But he saw that she was startled and up-set.
His words had obviously sueeested a


very unpleasant train of thought to her/. He
wished he knew just what it was, but his
experience made him aware that to press her
at this minute would not yield any result.
He brought the conversation back to old
Mr. Treves.
Mary told him of the tragic sequel to the
evening.
Battle questioned her at some length. Then
he said quietly:
"That's a new one on me. Never come
across that before."
"What do you mean?"
"I've never come across a murder commit.
ted by the simple expedient of hanging a
placard on a lift."
She looked horrified.
"You don't really think "
"That it was murder? Of course it was!
Quick, resourceful murder. It might not have
come off, of course--but it did come off."
"Just because Mr. Treves knew "
"Yes. Because he would have been able
to direct our attention to one particular pet.
son in this house. As it is, we've started i
the dark. But we've got a glimmer of light
now, and every minute the case is getting
clearer. I'll tell you this, Miss Aldin--s


hand do.wn to the sm.allest detail. And I
want to ampress one thing on your mind ...
don't let anybody kno. w. that you've told me
what you have. That s maportant. Don't tell
anyone, mind."

Mary nodded. She was still looking dazed.
Superintendent Battle went out of the
room and proceeded to do what he had been
about to do when Mary Aldin intercepted
him. He was a methodical man. He wanted
certain information, and a new and promis-ing
hare did not distract him from the or-derly
performance of his duties, however
tempting this new hare might be.


He tapped on the library door, and Nevile
Strange's voice called, "Come in.".


Battle was introduced to Mr. Trelawny, a
tall, distinguished-looking man with a keen
dark eye.

"Sorry if I am butting in," said Super-intendent
Battle apologetically. "But there's
something I haven't got clear. You, Mr.
Strange, inherit half the late Sir Matthew's

estate, but who inherits the other half?."
Nevile looked surprised.
"I told you. My wife."

"Yes. But "Battle coughed in a depre-cating
manner, "which wife, Mr. Strange?"


The mtfeY goers to Audrey who was my wife
at the time the will was made. That's fight,
Mr. Trelawny."
The lawyer assented.
"The bequest is quite clearly worded.
The esta, te is to be. divided between Sir
Matthe¢ s war:.d Nevile Hetn'y Strange, and
his wi(e Auqtrey Elizabeth Strange n&
Standi. The subsequent divorce makes no
differe:lce wha'Ltever."
"Tlot's cle, then," said Battle. "I take
it Mrs, Audr.ey Strange is fully aware of
these ffocts?"
"Ce::tatmy, ' said Mr. Tr¢lawny.
"Ar the present Mrs. Strange?"
"K-?" Ne:vile looked slightly surprised.
"Oh, lISuppose so. At least--I've never talked
much oout it-with her ."
"I tj ytou'll f'md," d Battle, "that
she's ' oder a misapprehension. She thinks
that t momey on Lady ?ressilian's death
come I0 you :and your present wife. At least,
that's hat sllae gave me t understand this
morni. Thaat's why I cae along to f'md
out hee the poosifion really lay."
"H,Iv extr.aordinary," sid Nevile. "Still,
I SUl:O-se it:might have h. appened quite
easily.;. $he said once or vxce now that I
thlnl-about i'iit- 'We come into that money


when Caxi!la dies,' but I suppose I assumed
that she was just associating herself with me
in my shre of it."

"It's extraordinary," said Battle, "the
amount o:f misunderstandings there are even
between vwo people who discuss a thing quite
often both of them assuming different
things and neither of them discovering the
discrepancy."

"I suppose so," said Nevile, not sounding
very iaterested. "It doesn't matter much in
this case, anyway. It's not as though we're
short of money at all. I'm very glad for
Audrey. She has been very hard up and this

will make a big difference to her."

Battle said bluntly:

"But, surely, sir, at the time of the di-vorce,
she was entitled to an allowance from
you?"

Nevile fluslxed. He said in a constrained
voice:

"There' is such a thing as as pride, Su-perintendent.
Audrey has always persistently
refused to touch a penny of the allowance I
wished to make her."

"A very generous allowance," put in Mr.
Trelawny. "But Mrs. Audrey Strange has
always remrnecl it and refused to accept it."

"Very interesting," said Battle and went


out before anyone could ask him to elaborate
that comment.

He went and found his nephew.

"On its face value," he said, "there's a
nice monetary motive for nearly everybody
in this case. Nevile Strange and Audrey
Strange get a cool fifty thousand each. Kay
Strange thinks she's entitled to fifty thou-sand.
Mary Aldin gets an income that frees
her from having to earn her living. Thomas
Royde, I'm bound to say, doesn't gain. But
we can include Hurstall and even Barrett
if we admit that she'd take the risk of finish-ing
herself off to avoid suspicion. Yes, as
I say, there are no lack of money motives.
And yet, if I'm right, money doesn't enter
into this at all. If there's such a thing as a
murder for pure hate, this is it. And if no
one comes along and throws a spanner into
the works, I'm going to get the person who
did it!"

Afterwards he wondered what had put
that particular phrase into his head just then

Andrew MacWhirter had been around at
Easterhead Bay on the preceding Saturday.


XIII


Andrew MacWhirter sat on the terrace of the
Easterhead Bay Hotel and stared across the
river to the frowning height of Stark Head
opposite.

He was engaged at the moment in a care-ful
stocktaking of his thoughts and emotions.

Here, seven months ago, he had attempted
to' take his own life. Chance, nothing but
chance, had intervened. Was he, he won-dered,
grateful to that chance?

He decided, soberly, that he was not. True,
he felt no present disposition to take his life.
That phase was over for good. He was will-ing
to address himself now to the task of
living, not with enthusiasm nor even with
pleasure, but in a methodical day-after-day
spirit. You could not, that he admitted, take
your own life in cold blood. There had to be
some extra fillip of despair, of grief, of des-perafion
or of passion. You could not com-mit
suicide merely because you felt that life
was a dreary round of tminteresfing happen-ings.

He was now, he supposed, to be consid-ered
quite a fortunate man. Fate, after hav-ing
frowned, had smiled instead. But he was
in no mood to smile huek


humor was grimly tickled when he thought
of the interview to which he had been sum-moned
by that rich and eccentric peer Lord
Comelly.

"You're MacWhirter? You were with
Herbert Clay? Clay got his driving license
endorsed, all because you wouldn't say he
was going at twenty miles an hour. Livid he
was! Told us about it one night at the Savoy.
'Damned pig-headed Scot!' he said. I thought
to myself that's the kind of chap I want!
Man who can't be bribed to tell lies. You
won't have to tell lies for me. I don't do my
business that way. I go about the world look-ing
for honest men and there are damned
few of them."

The little peer had cackled with laughter,
his shrewd monkey-like face wrinkled up
with mirth. MacWhirter had stood stolidly,
not amused.

But he had got the job. A good job. His
future now was assured. In a week's time he
was to leave England for South America.

He hardly knew what it was that had made
him choose to spend his few last days of
leisure where he now was. Yet something
had drawn him there. Perhaps the wish to
test himself to see if there remained in his
heart any of the old despair.


Mona? How little he cared now. She was
married to the other man. He had passed her
in the street one day without feeling any
emotion. He could remember his grief and
bitterness when she left him, but they were
past now and gone.

He was recalled from these thoughts by an
impact of wet dog and the frenzied appeal of
a newly made friend, Miss Diana Brinton,
aged thirteen.

"Oh, come away, Don. Come away. Isn't
it awful? He's rolled on some fish or some-thing
down on the beach. You can smell him
yards away. The fish was awfully dead, you

know."

MacWhirter's nose confirmed this assump-tion.

"In a sort of crevice on the rocks," said
Miss Brinton. "I took him into the sea and
tried to wash it off, but it doesn't seem to
have done much good."


MacWhirt.er agreed..Don, .a wre-haired
terrier of armable and loving disposition, was


looking hurt by the tendency of his friends
to keep him firmly at arm's length.

"Sea water's no good," said MacWhirter.
"Hot water and soap's the only thing."

"I know. But that's not so jolly easy in a


In the end MacWhirter and Diana surreptitiously
entered by the side door with
Don on a lead, and smuggling him up to
MacWhirter's bathroom, a thorough cleansing
took place and both MacWhirter and
Diana got very wet. Don was very sad when
it was all over. That disgusting smell of soap
again just when he had found a really nice
perfume such as any other dog would envy.
Oh, well, it was always the same with humans
they had no decent sense of smell.
The little incident had left MacWhirter
in a more cheerful mood. He took the bus
into Saltington, where he had left a suit'to be
cleaned. The girl in charge of the 24Hour
Cleaners looked at him vacantly.
"MacWhirter, did you say? I'm afraid it
isn't ready yet."
"It should be." He had been promised
that suit the day before and even that would
have been 48 and not 24 hours. A woman
might have said all this. MacWhirter merely
scowled.
"There's not been time yet," said the girl,
smiling indifferently.
"Nonsense."
The girl stopped smiling. She snapped.


"Then I'll take it away as it is," said
MacWhirter.
"Nothing's been done to it," the girl
warned him.
"I'll take it away."
"I daresay we might get it done by tomorrow
as a special favor."
"I'm not in the habit of asking for special
favors. Just give me the suit, please."
Giving him a bad-tempered look, the girl
went into a back room. She returned with
a clumsily done up parcel which she pushed
across the counter.
MacWhirter took it and went out.
He felt, quite ridiculously, as though he
had won a victory. Actually it merely meant
that he would have to have the suit cleaned
dsewhere!
He threw the parcel on his bed when he
returned to the hotel and looked at it with
annoyance. Perhaps he could get it sponged
and pressed in the hotel. It was not really too
bad--perhaps it didn't actually need cleaning?
He undid the parcd and gave vent to an
expression of annoyance. Really, the 24Hour
Cleaners were too inefficient for words. This
wa.n't hi. .llit It vaa.en't oven tho .nme cnlnrl


It had been a dark blue suit he had left with
them. Impertinent, inefficient muddlers.
He glanced irritably at the label. It had
the name MacWhirter all right. Another
MacWhirter? Or some stupid interchange of
labels.
Staring down vexedly at the crumpled
heap, he suddenly sniffed.
Surely he knew that smell particularly
unpleasant smell . . . connected somehow
with a dog. Yes, that was it. Diana and her
dog. Absolutely and literally stinking fish!
He bent down and examined the suit.
There it was, a discolored patch on the shoulder
of the coat. On the shoulder
Now that, thought MacWhirter, is really
very curious ....
Anyway, next day, he would have a few
grim words with the girl at the 24Hour
Cleaners. Gross mismanagement!

XIV

After dinner, he strolled out of the hotel and
down the road to the ferry. It was a clear
night, but cold, with a sharp foretaste of
winter. Summer was over.


Saltcreek side. It was the second time that
he was revisiting Stark Head. The place had
a fascination for him. He walked slowly up
the hill, passing the Balmoral Court Hotel
and then a big house set on the point of a
cliff. Gull's Point he read the name on the
painted door. Of course, that was where the
old lady had been murdered. There had been
a lot of talk in the hotel about it, his cham-bermaid
had insisted on telling him all about
it and the newspapers had given it a promi-nence
which had annoyed MacWhirter, who
preferred to read of world-wide affairs and
who was not interested in crime.

He went on, down hill again to skirt a
small beach and some old-fashioned fishing
cottages that had been modernized. Then up
again till the road ended and petered out into
the track that led up on Stark Head.

It was grim and forbidding on Stark Head.
MacWhirter stood on the cliff edge looking
down to the sea. So he had stood on that
other night. He tried to recapture some of
the feeling he had then the desperation, an-ger,
weariness the longing to be out of it
all. But there was nothing to recapture. All
that had gone. There was instead a cold
anger. Caught on that tree, rescued by coast


hospital, a series of indignities and affronts.
Why couldn't he have been let alone? He
would rather, a thousand times rather, be
out of it all. He still felt that. The only thing
he had lost was the necessary impetus.

How it had hurt him then to think of
Mona! He could think of her quite calmly
now. She had always been rather a fool.
Easily taken by anyone who flattered her or
played up to her idea of herself. Very pretty.
Yes, very pretty but no mind. Not the kind
of woman he had once dreamed about.

But that was beauty, of course Some
vague fancied picture of a woman flying
through the night with white draperies flying
out behind her... Something like the fig-urehead
of a ship only not so bold.., not
nearly so solid...

And then, with dramatic suddenness, the
incredible happened! Out of the night came
a flying figure. One minute she was not
there, the next minute she was a white
figure running nmning to the cliff's edge.
A figure, beautiful and desperate, driven
to destruction by pursuing Furies! Run-ning
with a terrible desperation .... He
knew that desperation. He knew what it


He came with a rash out of the shadows


and caught her just as she was about to go
over the edge!

He said fiercely:


"No, you don't... ."

It was just like holding a bird. She strug-gled
struggled silently, and then, again like

a bird, was suddenly dead still.

He said urgently:

"Don't throw yourself over! Nothing's
worth it. Nothing.t Even if you are desper-ately
unhappy"

She made a sound. It was, perhaps, a

far-off ghost of a laugh.

He said sharply:

"You're not unhappy? What is it then?"

She answered him at once with the low

softly-breathed word:

"Afraid."

"Afraid?" He was so astonished he let her
go, standing back a pace to see her better.

He realized then the truth of her words. It
was fear that had lent that urgency to her
footsteps. It was fear that made her small
white intelligent face blank and stupid. Fear

that dilated those wide-apart eyes.
He said incredulously:
"What are you afraid of?."

She replied so low that he hardly heard it.


voice, trying to remember all that he
heard. Rumor had been incorporated
fact.

"They detained your husband


Yes, she had said just that. He stared and

stared. He looked from her to the cliff edge.
"So that's why?"

"Yes. A quick death instead of "She
closed her eyes and shivered. She went on
shivering.

MacWhirter was piecing things together

logically in his mind.

He said at last:

"Lady Tressilian? The old lady who was
murdered." Then, accusingly: "You'll be

Mrs. Strange the fzrst Mrs. Strange."
Still shivering, she nodded her head.
MacWhirter went on in his slow careful

had
with


that's
right, isn't it? A lot of evidence against him
and then they found that that evidence had
been faked by someone... ."

He stopped and looked at her. She wasn't
shivering any longer. She was just standing
looking at him like a docile child. He found

her attitude unendurably affecting.

His voice went on:

"I see .... Yes, I see how it was .... He
left you for another woman, didn't he? And


off. He said, "I understand. My wife left me
for another man .... "

She flung out her arms. She began stam-mering
wildly, hopelessly:

"It's n-n-not it's n-n-not l-like that.
N-not at all "He cut her short. His voice
was stem and commanding.

"Go home! You needn't be afraid any
longer. D'you hear? I'll see that you're not
hanged!"


XV


Mary Aldin was lying on the drawing-room
sofa. Her head ached and her whole body
felt worn out.

The inquest had taken place the day be-fore,
and after formal evidence of identifica-tion,
had been adjourned for a week.

Lady Tressilian's funeral was to take place
on the morrow. Audrey and Kay had gone
into Saltington in the car to get some black
clothes. Ted Latimer had gone with them.
Nevile and Thomas Royde had gone for a
walk, so except for the servants, Mary was
alone in the house.

Superintendent Battle and Inspector Leach
had been absent today, and that, too, was


a relief. It seemed to Mary that with their
absence a shadow had lifted. They had been

polite, quite pleasant, in fact, but the ceaseless
questions, that quiet deliberate probing
and sifting of every fact was the sort of
thing that wore hardly on the nerves. By
now that wooden-faced Superintendent must
have learned of every incident, every word,
every gesture, even, of the past ten days.
Now, with their going, there was peace.
Mary let herself relax. She would forget
everything everything. Just lie back and
rest.
"Excuse me, Madam "
It was Hurstall in the doorway, looking
apologetic.
"Yes, Hurstall?"
"A gentleman wishes to see you. I have
put him in the study."
Mary looked at him in astoaishment and
some annoyance.
"Who is it?"
"He gave his name as Mr. MacWhirter,
iss.'
"I've never heard of him."
"No, iss.'
"He must be a reporter. You shouldn't
have let him in, Hurstall."
Hurstall coughed.


"I don't think he is a reporter, Miss. I
think he is a friend of Miss Audrey's."
"Oh, that's different."
Smoothing her hair, Mary went wearily
across the hall and into the small study. She
was, somehow, a little surprised as the tall
man standing by the window turned. He did
not look in the least like a friend of Audrey's.
However she said pleasantly:
"I'm sorry Mrs. Strange is out. You
wanted to see her?"
He looked at her in a thoughtful considering
way.
"You'll be Miss Aldin?" he said.
"Yes."
"I daresay you can help me just as well. I

want to find some rope."
"Rope?" said Mary in lively amazement.
"Yes, rope. Where would you be likely to
keep a piece of rope?"
Afterwards Mary considered that she
had been half-hypnotized. If this strange
man had volunteered any explanation she
might have resisted. But Andrew MacWhirter,
unable to think of a plausible
explanation, decided, very wisely, to do without
one. He just stated quite simply what he
wanted. She found herself, semi-dazed, leading
MacWhirter in search of rope.


"What kind of rope?" she had asked.
And he had replied:
"Any rope will do."
She said doubtfully:
"Perhaps in the potting shed "
"Shall we go there?"
She led the way. There was twine and an
odd bit of cord, but MacWhirter shook his
head.
He wanted rope a good-sized coil of rope.
"There's the box room," said Mary hesitatingly.
"Ay, that might be the place."
They went indoors and upstairs. Mary
threw open the box-room door. MacWhirter
stood in the doorway looking in. He gave a
curious sigh of contentment.
"There it is," he said.
There was a big coil of rope lying on a
chest just inside the door in company with
old fishing tackle and some moth-eaten cushions.
He laid a hand on her arm and impelled Mary gently forward until they stood

looking down on the rope. He touched it
and said:
"I'd like you to charge your memory with
this, Miss Aldin. You'll notice that everything
round about is covered with dust. There's no dust on this role. Just feel it."


She said:
"It feels slightly damp," in a surprised
tone.
"Just so."
He turned to go out again.
"But the rope? I thought you wanted it?"
said Mary in surprise.
MacWhirter smiled.
"I just wanted to know it was there. That's
all. Perhaps you wouldn,t mind locking this
door, Miss Aldin and taking the key out?
Yes. I'd be obliged if you'd hand the key to
Superintendent Battle or Inspector Leach. It
would be best in their keeping."
As they went downstairs, Mary made an
effort to rally herself.
She protested as they reached the main
hall:
"But really, I don't understand "
"There's no need for you to understand."
He took her hand and shook it heartily. "I'm

very much obliged to you for your cooperation."
Whereupon he went straight out of the
front door.
Nevile and Thomas came in presently
and the car arrived back shortly afterwards
and Mary Aldin found herself envying
la,, and Ta.cl fnr ha.ina hle tn lnnk n11ite


cheerful. They were laughing and joking to-gether.
After all, why not? she thought.
Camilla Tressilian had been nothing to Kay.
All this tragic business was very hard on a
bright young creature.

They had just finished lunch when the
police came. There was something scared in
Hurstall's voice as he announced that Super-intendent
Battle and Inspector Leach were in
the drawing room.

Superintendent Battle's face was quite
genial as he greeted them.

"Hope I haven't disturbed you all," he
said apologetically. "But there are one or two
things I'd like to know about. This glove,
for instance, who does it belong to?"

He held it out, a small yellow chamois
leather glove.

He addressed Audrey.

"Is it yours, Mrs. Strange?"
She shook her head.
"No no, it isn't mine."
"Miss Aldin?"

"I don't think so. I have none of that
color."

"May I see?" Kay held out her hand.


"Perhaps you'd just slip it on."


"Miss Aldin?"

Mary tried in her turn.

"It's too small for you also," said Battle.
He turned back to Audrey. "I think you'll
find it fits you all right. Your hand is smaller
than either of the other ladies."

Audrey took it from him and slipped it on
over her right hand.

Nevile Strange said sharply:

"She's already told you, Battle, that it isn't
her glove."

"Ah, well," said Battle, "perhaps she made
a mistake. Or forgot."

Audrey said: "It may be mine gloves are

so alike, aren't they?"

Battle said:

"At any rate it was found outside your
window, Mrs. Strange, pushed down into
the ivy with its fellow."

There was a pause. Audrey opened her
mouth to speak, then closed it up again. Her
eyes fell before the Superintendent's steady
gaze.

Nevile sprang forward.

"Look here, Superintendent "

"Perhaps we might have a word with you,
Mr. Strange, privately?" Battle said gravely.

"Certainly, Superintendent. Come into the


He led the way and the two police officers
followed him.
As soon as the door had dosed Nevile said sharply:
"What's this ridiculous story about gloves
outside my wife's window?"
Baffle said quietly:
"Mr. Strange, we've found some very curious
things in this house."
Nevile frowned.
"Curious? What do you mean by curious?''
"I'll show you."
In obedience to a nod, Leach left the room
and came back holding a very strange implement.
Battle said:
"This consists, as you see, sir, of a steel
ball taken from a Victorian fender a heavy
steal bail. Then the ead has been sawed off
a tennis racket and te bfil has been screwed
into the handle of fie racket." He paused.
"I think there can be rt doubt that this is
what was used to Laxly Tressilian."
"Horrible!" said levile with a shudder.
"But where did yo f-ad this .this fight-mare?"
"The ball had been cleaned and put back


neglected to clean the screw. We found a
trace of blood on that. In the same way the
handle and the head of the racket were joined
together again by means of adhesive surgical
piaster. It was then thrown carelessly back
into the cupboard under tl?e stairs where it
would probably have remained quite unno-ticed
amongst so many others if we hadn't
happened to be looking for something of that
kind.'

"Smart of you, Superintendent."
"Just a matter of routine."
"No fmgerprints, I suppose?"

"That racket which belongs by its weight,
I should say, to Mrs. Kay Strange, has been
handled by her and also by you and both
your prints are on it. But it also shows unmis-takable
signs that someone wearing gloves han-dled
it after you two did. There was just one
other fingerprint left this time in inadvert-ence,
I think. That was on the surgical strap-ping
that had been applied to bind the racket
together again. I'm not going for the mo-ment
to say whose print that was. I've got

some other points to mention first."

Battle paused, then he said:

"I want you to prepare yourself for a shock,
Mr. Strange. And first I want to ask you


your own idea to have this meeting here and
that it was not actually suggested to you by
Mrs. Audrey Strange?"

"Audrey did nothing of the sort. Au-drey-''

The door opened and Thomas Royde came
in.

"Sorry to butt in," he said, "but I thought
I'd like to be in on this."

Nevile turned a harassed face towards him.

"Do you mind, old fellow? This is all
rather private."

"I'm afraid I don't care about that. You
see, I heard a name outside." He paused.
"Audrey's name."


"And what the hell has Audrey's name got
to do with you?" demanded Nevile, his tem-per
rising.

"Well, what has it to do with you if it
comes to that? I haven't said anything deft-nite
to Audrey, but I came here meaning to
ask her to marry me, and I think she knows
it. What's more, I mean to marry her."

Superintendent Battle coughed. Nevile
turned to him with a start.

"Sorry, Superintendent. This interrup-tion
"

Battle said:

"It doesn't matter to me, Mr. Strange.


I've got one more question to ask you. That
dark blue coat you wore at dinner the night
of the murder, it's got fair hairs inside the
collar and on the shoulders. Do you know
how they got there?"

"I suppose they're my hairs."

"Oh, no, they're not yours, sir. They're
a lady's hairs, and there's a red hair on the
sleeves."

"I suppose that's my wife's Kay's. The
others, you are suggesting, are Audrey's?
Very likely they are. I caught my cuff button
in her hair one night outside on the terrace, I
remember."

"In that case," murmured Inspector
Leach, "the fair hair would be on the cuff."

"What the devil are you suggesting?" cried
Nevile.

"There's a trace of powder, too, inside
the coat collar," said Battle. "Primavera
Naturelle No. 1 a very pleasant-scented
powder and expensive but it's no good tell-ing
me that you use it, Mr. Strange, because
I shan't believe you. And Mrs. Kay Strange
uses Orchid Sun Kiss. Mrs. Audrey Strange
does use Primavera Naturelle 1."

"What are you suggesting?" repeated
Nevile.

Battle leaned forward.


"I'm suggesting that on some occasion
Mrs. Audrey Strange wore that coat. It's the
only reasonable way the hair and the powder
could get wlaere they did. Then you've seen
that glove I produced just now? It's her glove
all fight. TI,at was the right hand, here's the
left--" He drew it out of his pocket and put
it down on the table. It was crumpled and
stained with rusty brown patches.

Nevile said with a note of fear in his voice:
"What's that on it?"

"Blood,/dr. Strange," said Battle fn'mly.
"And you'll note this, it's the left hand. Now
Mrs. Audrey Strange is left-handed. I noted
that first ting when I saw her sitting with
her coffee cup in her fight hand and her
cigarette in her left at the breakfast table.
And the pen tray on her writing-table had
been shifted to the left-hand side. It all
fits in. The knob from her grate, the gloves
outside her window, the hair and powder on
the coat. Lady Tressilian was struck on the
fight temple but the position of the bed
made it impossible for anyone to have stood
on the oer side of it. It follows that to
strike Lady Tress'fiian a blow with the right
hand wo.uld be a very awkward thing to
do but frs the natural way to strike for a


Nevile laughed scornfully.

"Are you suggesting that Audrey Audrey
would make all these daborate preparations
and strike down an old lady whom she had
known for years in order to get her hands on
that old lady's money?"

Battle shook his head.

"I'm suggesting nothing of the sort. I'm
sorry, Mr. Strange, you've got to understand
just how things are. This crime, first, last
and all the time was directed against you.
Ever since you left her, Audrey Strange has
been brooding over the possibilities of re-venge.
In the end she has become mentally
unbalanced. Perhaps she was never mentally
very strong. She thought, perhaps, of killing
you but that wasn't enough. She thought at
last of getting you hanged for murder. She
chose an evening when she knew you had
quarreled with Lady Tressilian. She took the
coat from your bedroom and wore it when
she struck the old lady down so that it should
be bloodstained. She put your niblick on the
floor knowing we would find your finger-prints
on it and smeared blood and hair on
the head of the club. It was she who instilled
into your mind the idea of coming here
when she was here. And the thing that saved

vnl'n.the nne thine .he cnddn't nllnt


"I'm suggesting that on some occasion
Mrs. Audrey Strange wore that coat. It's the
only reasonable way the hair and the powder
could get where they did. Then you've seen
that glove I produced just now? It's her glove
all fight. That was the fight hand, here's the
left "He drew it out of his pocket and put
it down on the table. It was crtmapled and
stained with rusty brown patches.

Nevile said with a note of fear in his voice:
"What's that on it?"

"Blood, Mr. Strange," said Battle firmly.
"And you'll note this, it's the lehand. Now
Mrs. Audrey Strange is left-handed. I noted
that first thing when I saw her sitting with
her coffee cup in her fight hand and her
cigarette in her left at the breakfast table.
And the pen tray on her writing-table had
been shifted to the left-hand side. It all
fits in. The knob from her grate, the gloves
outside her window, the hair and powder on
the coat. Lady Tressilian was struck on the
fight temple but the position of the bed
made it impossible for anyone to have stood
on the other side of it. It follows that to
strike Lady Tressilian a blow with the fight
hand would be a very awkward thing to
do--but it's the natural way to strike for a
left-handed person. "


Nevile laughed scornfully.
"Are you suggesting that Audrey Audrey

would make all these elaborate preparations
I and strike down an old lady whom she had

known for years in order to get her hands on
that old lady's money?"
Baffle shook his head.
"I'm suggesting nothing of the sort. I'm
sorry, Mr. Strange, you've got to understand
just how things are. This crime, first, last
and all the time was directed against you.
Ever since you left her, Audrey Strange has
been brooding over the possibilities of revenge.
In the end she has become mentally
unbalanced. Perhaps she was never mentally
very strong. She thought, perhaps, of killing
you but that wasn't enough. She thought at
last of getting you hanged for murder. She
chose an evening when she knew you had
quarreled with Lady Tressilian. She took the
coat from your bedroom and wore it when
she struck the old lady down so that it should
be bloodstained. She put your niblick on the
floor knowing we would find your fingerprints
on it and smeared blood and hair on
the head of the club. It was she who instilled
into your mind the idea of coming here
when she was here. And the thing that saved
xrnn wac tho nne thlnehe erllcin't Cnllnt


on -the fact that Lady Tressilian rang her
bell for Barrett and that Barrett saw you
leave the house."
Ncvile had buried his face in his hands.
He said now:
"It's not tree. It's not true! Audrey's never
borne a grudge against me. You've got the
whole thing wrong. She's the straightest, truest
creature without one thought of evil in
her heart."
Battle sighed.
"It's not my business to argue with you,
Mr. Strange. I only wanted to prepare you.
I shall caution Mrs. Strange and ask her to
accomPanY me. I've got the warrant. You'd
better see about getting a solicitor for her."
"It's preposterous. Absolutely preposterous.
"Iove turns to hate more easily than you
think, Mr. Strange."
"I tell you it's all wrong--preposterous."
Thomas Royde broke in. His voice was
quiet and pleasant.
"Do stop repeating that it's preposterous,
Nevile. Pull yourself together. Don't you see
that the only thing that can help Audrey
now is for you to give up all your ideas of
chivalry and come out with the truth?"


explained Thomas briefly. He went on:
"Don't you see, Superintendent, that knocks
your motive out! Audrey has no cause to


"I mean the truth about Audrey anctl
Adrian." Royde turned to the police officers,
"You see, Superintendent, you've got th%
facts wrong. Nevile didn't leave Audrey. She
left him. She ran away with my brothe
Adrian. Then Adrian was killed in a ca&,
accident. Nevile behaved with the utmost:
chivalry to Audrey. He arranged that she
should divorce him and that he would take
the blame."

"Didn't want her name dragged through,
the mud," muttered Nevile sulkily. "Didn't:
know anyone knew."

"Adrian wrote out to me, just before,"


hate Nevile. On the contrary, she has every
reason to be grateful to him. He's tried to
get her to accept an allowance which she
wouldn't do. Naturally when he wanted her
to come and meet Kay she didn't feel she
could refuse."

"You see," Nevile put in eagerly. "That
cuts out her motive. Thomas is right."

Battle's wooden face was immovable.

"Motive's only one thing," he said. "I
may have been wrong about that. But facts


are another. All the facts show that she's

Nevile said meaningly:
"All the facts showed that I was guilty
two days ago!"
Battle seemed a little taken aback.
"That's true enough. But look here, Mr.
Strange, at what you're asking me to believe.
You're asking me to believe that there's
someone who hates both of you someone
who, if the plot against you failed, had laid
a second trail to lead to Audrey Strange.
Now can you think of anyone, Mr. Strange,
who hates both you and your former wife?"
Nevile's head had dropped into his hands
again.
"When you say it like that, you make it all
sound fantastic!"
"Because it/s fantastic. I've got to go by
the facts. If Mrs. Strange has any explanation
to offer "
"Did I have any explanation?" asked
Nevile.
"It's no good, Mr. Strange. I've got to do
my duty."
Battle got up abruptly. He and Leach left
the room first. Nevile and Royde came close
behind them.


They went on across the hall into the
drawing room. There they stopped.
Audrey Strange got up. She walked forward
to meet them. She looked straight at
Battle, her lips parted in what was very nearly a smile.
She said very softly:
"You want me, don't you?"
Battle became very official.
"Mrs. Strange, I have a warrant here for
your arrest on the charge of murdering
Camilla Tressilian on Monday last, September
twelfth. I must caution you that anything
you say will be written down and may be
used in evidence at your trial."
Audrey gave a sigh. Her small clear-cut
face was peaceful and pure as a cameo.
"It's almost a relief. I'm glad it's over!"
Nevile sprang forward.
	"Audrey don't say
	anything
	don't
	speak at all."

	She smiled at him.
"But why not, Nevile? It's all tree and
I'm so tired."
Leach drew a deep breath. Well, that was
that. Mad as a hatter, of course, but it would
save a lot of worry! He wondered what had
happened to his uncle. The old boy was
looking as though he had seen a ghost. Star
ing at the demented creature as though he
couldn't believe his eyes. Oh, well, it had
been an interesting case, Leach 0ught com-fortably.

And then, an almost grotesque anticlimax,
Hurstall opened the drawing room door and
announced:

"Mr. MacXXhirter."

MacXX'hirter strode in purposefully. He
went straight up to Battle.

"Are you the police officer in charge of
the Tressilian case?" he asked.


"Then I have an important statement to
make. I am sorry not to have cme forward
before, but the importance of something I
happened to see on the night of Yonday last
has only just dawned on me." He gave a
quick glance round the room. "III can speak
to you somewhere?"

Battle turned to Leach.

"Will you stay here with Mrs. Strange?"
Leach said officially:
"Yes, six."

Then he leaned forward and whispered
something into the other's ear.

Battle turned to MacXXbirter.


"Come this way."

I-Ie led the wv intn the lihrar


"Now, then, what's all this? My colleague
tells me that he's seen you before last
winter?"
"Quite right," said MacWhirter. "Attempted
suicide. That's part of my story."
"Go on, Mr. MacWhirter."
"Last January I attempted to kill myself
by throwing myself off Stark Head. This
year, the fancy took me to revisit the spot.
I walked up there on Monday night. I stood
there for some time. I looked down at the
sea and across to Easterhead Bay and I then
looked to my left. That is to say I looked
across towards this house. I could see it quite
plainly in the moonlight."
"Yes."
"Until today I had not realized that that
was the night when a murder was committed." He leant forward.
"I'll tell you what I saw."

XVI

It was really only about five minutes before
Baffle returned to the drawing room, but to
those there it seemed much longer.
Kay had suddenly lost control of herself.
.qhe had cried out tn Anclrev--


"I knew k was you. I always knew it was

you. I knew you were up to something
Mary Aldin said quickly:
"Please, Kay."
Nevile said sharply:
"Shut up, Kay, for God's sake."
Ted Latimer came over to Kay,
begun to cry.

who had

"Get a grip on yourself," he said kindly.
He said to Nevile angrily:
"You don't seem to realize that Kay has
been under a lot of strain! Why don't you
look after her a bit, Strange?"
"I'm all right," said Kay.
"For two pins," said Ted, "I'd take you
away from the lot of them!"
Inspector Leach cleared his throat. A lot
of injudicious things were said at times like
these, as he well knew. The unfortunate part
was that they were usually remembered most
inconveniently afterwards.
Battle came back into the room. His face
was expressionless.
He said: "Will you put one or two things
together, Mrs. Strange? I'm afraid Inspector
Leach must come upstairs with you."
Mary Aldin said:

"T'II rrme tm"


When the two women had left the room

with the Inspector, Nevile said anxiously:
"Well, what did that chap want?"
Battle said slowly:

"Mr. MacWbirter tells a very odd story."

"Does it help Audrey? Are you still deter-mined
to arrest her?"

"I've told you, Mr. Strange. I've got to do
my duty."

Nevile turned away, the eagerness dying

out of his face.

He said:

"I'd better tdephone Trelawny, I sup-po
se."

"There's no immediate hurry for that, Mr.
Strange. There's a certain experiment I want
to make first as a result of Mr. MacWhirter's
statement. I'll just see that Mrs. Strange gets
off first."

Audrey was coming down the stairs, In-spector
Leach beside her. Her face still had
that remote, detached composure.

Nevile came towards her, his hands out-stretched.

"Audrey "

Her colorless glance swept over him. She
said:

"It's all fight, Nevile. I don't mind. I
don't mind anvthinm"


Thomas Royde stood by the front door,

almost as though he would bar the way out.
A very faint smile came to her lips.
"'True Thomas,'" she murmured.
He mumbled:

"If there's anything I can do "

"No one can do anything," said Audrey.
She went out with her head high. A police
car was waiting outside with Sergeant Jones
in it. Audrey and Leach got in.

Ted Latimer murmured appreciatively:
"Lovely exit!"

Nevile turned on him furiously. Superin-tendent
Battle dexterously interposed his bulk
and raised a soothing voice:

"As I said, I've got an experiment to
make. Mr. MacWhirter is waiting down at
the ferry. We're to join him there in ten
minutes' time. We shall be going out in a
motor launch, so the ladies had better wrap
up warmly. In ten minutes, please."

He might have been a stage manager, or-dering
a company on to the stage. He took
no notice at all of their puzzled faces.


Zero Hour

I

It was chilly on the water and Kay hugged
the little fur jacket she was wearing closer
round her.
The launch chugged down the river below
Gull's Point, and then swung round into the
little bay that divided Gull's Point from the
frowning mass of Stark Head.
Once or twice, a question began to be
asked, but each time Superintendent Battle
held up a large hand rather like a cardboard
ham, intimating that the time had not come
yet. So the silence was unbroken save for
the rushing of the water past them. Kay and
Ted stood together looking down into the
water. Nevile was slumped down, his legs
stuck out. Mary Aldin and Thomas Royde
sat up in the bow. And one and all glanced
from time to time curiously at the tall aloof
fiorf MacWhirter hv the stem. He looked


at none of them, but stood with his back
turned and his shoulders hunched up.

Not until they were under the frowning
shadow of Stark Head, did Battle throttle
down the engine and begin to speak his piece.

He spoke without self-consciousness and
in a tone that was more reflective than any-thing
else.

"This has been a very odd case one of
the oddest I've ever known, and I'd like to
say something on the subject of murder gen-erally.
What I'm going to say is not origi-nal
actually I overheard young Mr. Daniels,
the K.C., say something of the kind, and
I wouldn't be surprised if he'd got it from
someone else he's a trick of doing that!

"It's this! When you read the account of
a murder or say, a fiction story based on
murder, you usually begin with the murder
itself. That's all wrong. The murder begins a
long time beforehand. A murder is the culmi-nation
of a lot of different circttmstances, all
converging at a given moment at a given
point. People are brought into it from differ-ent
parts of the globe and for unforeseen
reasons. Mr. Royde is here from Malaya.
Mr. MacWhirter is here because he wanted


mit suicide. The murder itself is the end of


the story. It's Zero Hour."

He paused.

"It's Zero Hour now."

Five faces were turned to him


only five,
for MacWhirter did not turn his head. Five

puzzled faces.

Mary Aldin said:

"You mean that Lady Tressilian's death
was the culmination of a long train of cir-cumstances?''

"No, Miss Aldin, not Lady Tressilian's
death. Lady Tressilian's death was only inci-dental
to the main object of the murderer.
The murder I am talking of is the murder of
Audrey Strange."

He listened to the sharp indrawing of
breath. He wondered if, suddenly, someone
was afraid ....

"This crime was planned quite a long time
ago--probably as early as last winter. It was
planned down to the smallest detail. It had
one object, and one object only: that Audrey
Strange should be hanged by the neck till
she was dead ....

"It was very cunningly planned by some-one
who thought himself very clever. Mur-derers
are usually vain. There was fzrst the

e 1 l'rt,lL',, ,- 1 ', .,,.., ,..,,.., -: ,., J ......... =' -1 ....


Nevile Strange which we were meant to see
through. But having been presented by one
lot of faked evidence, it was not considered
likely that we should consider a second edition
of the same thing. And yet, if you come to
look at it, all the evidence against Audrey
Strange could be faked. The weapon taken
from her fireplace, her gloves the left hand
glove dipped in blood hidden in the ivy
outside her window. The powder she uses
dusted on the inside of a coat collar, and
a few hairs placed there too. Her own fingerprint,
occurring quite naturally on a roll of
adhesive plaster taken from her room. Even
the left-handed nature of the blow.
"And there was the final damning evidence
of Mrs. Strange herself I don't believe
there's one of you (except the one who knows) who can credit her innocence after
the way she behaved when we took her into
custody. Practically admitted her guilt, didn't
she? I mightn't have believed in her being
innocent myself if it hadn't been for a private
experience of my own .... Struck me
fight between the eyes it did, when I saw
and heard her because, you see, I'd known
another girl who did just that very same
thing, who admitted guilt when she wasn't


guilty and Audrey Strange was looking at
me with that other girl's eyes ....
"I'd got to do my duty. I knew that. We
police officers have to act on evidence not
on what we feel and think. But I can tell you
that at that minute I prayed for a miracle
because I didn't see that anything but a miracle
was going to help that poor lady.
"Well, I got my miracle. Got it right away!
"Mr. MacWhirter, here, turned up with
his story."
He paused.
"Mr. MacWhirter, will you repeat what
you told me up at the house?"
MacWhirter turned. He spoke in short
sharp sentences that carried conviction just
because of their conciseness.
He told of his rescue from the cliff the
preceding January and of his wish to revisit
the scene. He went on.
"I went up there on Monday night. I stood
there lost in my own thoughts. It must have
been, I suppose, in the neighborhood of
eleven o'clock. I looked across at that house
on the point Gull's Point as I know it now
to be."
He paused and then went on.
"There was a rope hanging from a win
dow of that house into the sea. I saw a man
climbing up that rope .... "
Just a moment elapsed before they took it
in. Mary Aldin cried out:
"Then it was an outsider after all? It was
nothing to do with any of us. It was an
ordinary burglar!"
"Not quite so fast," said Battle. "It
was someone who came from the other side
of the river, yes, since he swam across. But
someone in the house had to have the rope
ready for him, therefore someone inside must
have been concerned."
He went on slowly.
"And we know of someone who was on
the other side of the river that night someone
who wasn't seen between ten thirty and
a quarter past eleven and who might have
been swimming over and back. Someone who
might have a friend on this side of the water."
He added: "Eh, Mr. Latimer?"
Ted took a step backward. He cried out
shrilly:
"But I can't swim! Everybody knows I
can't swim. Kay, tell them I can't swim."
"Of course Ted can't swim!" Kay cried.
"Is that so?" asked Battle, pleasantly.
He moved alone the boat as Ted moved in


the other direction. There was some clumsy
movement and a splash.

"Dear me," said Superintendent Battle
in deep concern. "Mr. Latimer's gone over-board."

His hand closed like a vise on Nevile's
arm as the latter was preparing to jump in
after him.

"No, no, Mr. Strange. No need for you


I
	to get yourself wet. There are two of my

	men handy fishing in the dinghy there."


He peered over the side of the boat. "It's
quite true," he said with interest. "He can't
swim. It's all right. They've got him. I'll
apologize presently, but really there's only
one way to make quite sure that a person
can't swim and that's to throw them in and
watch. You see, Mr. Strange, I like to be
thorough. I had to eliminate Mr. Latimer
first. Mr. Royde, here, has got a groggy
arm; he couldn't do any rope climbing."

Battle's voice took on a lurring quality.
"So that brings us to you, doesn't it,
Mr. Strange? A good athlete, a mountain
climber, a swimmer and all that. You went
over on the 10.30 ferry all right but no one
can swear to seeing you at the Easterhead
l-Intel until a auarter tast eleven in stfite of


our story of having been looking for Mr.
Latimer then."

Nevile jerked his arm away. He threw
back his head and laughed.

"You suggest that I swam across the river


and climbed up a rope "

"Which you had left ready hanging from
your window," said Baffle.

"Killed Lady Tressilian and swam back
again? Why should I do such a fantastic
thing? And who laid all those clues against
me? I suppose I laid them against rnyself, t"

"Exactly," said Battle. "And not half a
bad idea either."

"And why should I want to kill Camilla
Tressilian?"

"You didn't," said Battle. "But you did
want to hang the woman who left you for
another man. You're a bit unhinged men-tally,
you know. Have been ever since you
were a child I've looked up that old bow
and arrow case by the way. Anyone who
does you an injury has to be punished and
death doesn't seem to you an excessive pen-alty
for them to pay. Death by itself wasn't
enough for Audreymyour Audrey vhom you
loved oh, yes, you loved her all right be-fore
your love turned to hate. You had to

thinlr nf enme enoeial kind of death, some


long-drawn-out specialized death. And when
you'd thought of it, the fact that it entailed
the killing of a woman who had been some-thing
like a mother to you didn't worry you
in the least .... "

Nevile said and his voice was quite gentle:

"All lies! All lies! And I'm not mad. I'm
not mad."

Battle said contemptuously:

"Flicked you on the raw, didn't she, when
she went off and left you for another man?
Hurt your vanity! To think she should walk
out on you. You salved your pride by pre-tending
to the world at large that you'd left
her and you married another girl who was in
love with you just to bolster up that belief.
But all the time you planned what you'd do
to Audrey. You couldn't think of anything
worse than this to get her hanged. A fine
idea pity you hadn't the brains to carry it
out better!"

Nevile's tweed-coated shoulders moved, a

queer, wriggling movement.

Battle went on:

"Childish all that niblick stuff! Those
crude trails pointing to you! Audrey must
have known what you were after! She must
have laughed up her sleeve! Thinking I
didn't suspect you! You murderers are funny


little fellows! So puffed up. Always thinking
you've been clever and resourceful and really
being quite pitifully childish .... "

It was a strange queer scream that came
from Nevile.

"It was a clever idea it was! You'd never
have guessed. Never! Not if it hadn't been
for this interfering iackanapes, this pompous
Scotch fool. I'd thought out every detail

every detail! I can't help 'what went wrong.
How was I to know Royde knew the truth
about Audrey and Adrian? Audrey and
Adrian .... Curse Audrey she shall hang

you've got to hang her I want her to die

	afraid to die to die 	I
hate her. I tell
	you
I want her to die 	"
The
high
whinnying voice died away. Nevile slumped
down and began to cry qui-etly.
"Oh,
God,"
said Mary Aldin.
She was
white to the lips.
Battle said
gently, in a low voice:
"I'm sorry,
but I had to push him over the edge
.... There was precious little evi-dence, you
know."
Nevile was
still whimpering. His voice was like a
child's.
"I want
her to be hanged. I do want her to

Mary Aldin shuddered
Thomas Royde.

He took her hands in his.


and turned to


II


"I was always frightened," said Audrey.

They were sitting on the terrace. Audrey
sat close to Superintendent Battle. Battle had
resumed his holiday and was at Gull's Point
as a friend.

"Always frightened all the time," said
Audrey.

Battle said, nodding his head:

"I knew you were dead scared first mo-ment
I saw you. And you'd got that color-less,
reserved way people have who are
holding some very strong emotion in check.
It might have been love or hate, but actually

it was fear, wasn't it?"

She nodded.

"I began to be afraid of Nevile soon after
we were married. But the awful thing is, you
see, that I didn't know why. I began to think
that I was mad."

"It wasn't you," said Battle.


him so particularly sane and normal always
delightfully good-tempered and pleasant."
"Interesting," said Battle. "He played
the part of the good sportsman, you know.
That's why he could keep his temper so
well at tennis. His role as a good sportsman
was more important to him than winning
matches. But it put a strain upon him, of
course, playing a part always does. He got
worse underneath."
"Underneath," whispered Audrey with
a shudder· "Always underneath. Nothing you
could get hold of. Just sometimes a word
or a look and then I'd fancy I'd imagined
it .... Something queer. And then, as I say,
I thought I must be queer. And I went on
getting more and more afraid the kind of
unreasoning fear, you know, that makes you sickI
"I told myself I was going mad but I
couldn't help it. I felt I'd do anything in the
world to get away! And then Adrian came
and told me he loved me and I thought it
would be wonderful to go away with him
and be safe.. "

She stopped.
"You know what happened? I
to meet Adrian he never came

went off
he was


killed .... I felt as though Nevile had
managed it somehow "

"Perhaps he did," said Battle.
Audrey turned a startled face to him.
"Oh, do you think so?"

"We'll never know now. Motor accidents
can be arranged. Don't brood on it, though,
Mrs. Strange. As likely as not, it just hap-pened
naturally."

"I I was all broken up. I went back to
the Rectory Adrian's home. We were going
to have written to his mother, but as she
didn't know about it, I thought I wouldn't
tell her and give her pain. And Nevile came
almost at once. He was very nice and
kind and all the time I talked to him I was
quite sick with fear! He said no one need
know about Adrian, that I could divorce him
on evidence he would send me and that he
was going to remarry afterwards. I felt so
thankful. I knew he had thought Kay attrac-tive
and I hoped that everything would turn
out right and that I should get over this
queer obsession of mine. I still thought it
must be me.

"But I couldn't get rid of it quite. I
never felt I'd really escaped. And then I met
Nevile in the Park one day and he explained


that he did so want me and Kay to be friends


and suggested that we should all come here
in September. I couldn't refuse, how could
I?
	After all the kind things he'd done." "'Will you walk into my parlor?' said the
spider to the fly," remarked Superintendent
Battle.
Audrey shivered.
"Yes, just that .... "
"Very clever he was about that," said
Battle. "Protested so loudly to everyone that
it was his idea, that everyone at once got the
impression that it wasn't."
Audrey said:

"And then I got here and it was like a kind of nightmare. I knew something awful

was going to happen I knew Nevile meant
it to happen and that it was to happen to me. But I didn't know what it was. I think, you know, that I nearly did go off my head!
I was just paralyzed with fright like you are
in a dream when something's going to happen
and you can't move .... "
"I've always thought," said Superintendent

Battle, "that I'd like to have seen a snake
fascinate a bird so that it can't fly away but
now I'm not so sure."
Audrey went on.
"Even when Lady Tressilian was killed, I
didn't realize what it meant. I was puzzled.


I didn't even suspect Nevile. I knew he didn't
care about money it was absurd to think
he'd kill her in order to inherit fifty thou-sand
pounds.

"I thought over and over again about
Mr. Treves and the story he had told that
evening. Even then I didn't connect it with
Nevile. Treves had mentioned some physical
peculiarity by which he could recognize the
child of long ago. I've got a scar on my ear
but I don't think anyone else has any sign
that you'd notice."

Battle said: "Miss Aldin has a lock of
white hair. Thomas Royde has a stiff right
arm which might not have been only the
result of an earthquake. Mr. Ted Latimer
has rather an odd-shaped skull. And Nevile
Strange "

He paused.

"Surely there was no physical peculiarity
about Nevile?"

"Oh, yes, there was. His left hand little
pounds ger is shorter than his right. That's very
unusual, Mrs. Strange very unusual in-deed."

"So that was it?"

"That was it."

"And Nevile hung that sign on the lift?"
"Yes. Nipped down there and back whilst


Royde and Latimer were giving the old boy
drinks. Clever and simple doubt if we could

ever prove that was murder."

	Audrey shivered again.

"Now, now," said Battle. "It's all over
now, my dear. Go on talking."

	"You're very clever 	I
haven't talked
so
much for years!"
"No,
that's what's been wrong. When did it
first dawn on you what Master Nevile's game
was?"
"I
don't know exactly. It came to me all at once.
He himself had been cleared and that left
all of us. And then, suddenly, I saw him looking
at me a sort of gloating look. And
I
knew.t That was when "
She stopped abruptly.
"That was when what ?"
Audrey said slowly:

"When I thought a quick way out would
be best."

Superintendent Battle shook his head.
"Never give in. That's my motto."

"Oh, you're quite right. But you don't
know what it does to you being afraid for
so long. It paralyzes you you can't think
you can't plan you just wait for something
awful to happen. And then, when it does
happen" she gave a sudden quick smile


"you'd be surprised at the relief,t No more
waiting and fearing--it's come. You'll think
I'm quite demented, I suppose, if I tell you
that when you came to arrest me for murder
I didn't mind at all. Nevile had done his
worst and it was over. I felt so safe going off
with Inspector Leach."

"That's partly why we did it," said Battle.
"I wanted you out of that madman's reach.
And besides, if I wanted to break him down,
I wanted to be able to count on the shock of
the reaction. He'd seen his plan come off, as
he thought so the jolt would be all the
greater."

Audrey said in a low voice:

"If he hadn't broken down, would there
have been any evidence?"

"Not too much. There was MacWhirter's
story of seeing a man climb up a rope in the
moonlight. And there was the rope itself con-fLrming
his story, coiled up in the attic and
still faintly damp. It was raining that night,
you know."

He paused and stared hard at Audrey as
though he were expecting her to say some-thing.

As she merely looked interested he went


on:

"And there was the pin-stripe suit. He


stripped, of course, in the dark on that rocky
point on the Easterhead Bay side, and thrust
his suit into a niche in the rock. As it happened
he put it down on a decayed bit of
fish washed up by the flood ride two days
ago. It made a stained patch on the shoulder
and it smelt. There was some talk, I
found out, about the drains being wrong in
the hotel. NeVile himself put that story about.
He'd got his rain coat on over his suit, but
the smell was a pervasive one. Then he got
the wind up about that suit afterwards and at
the first opportunity he took it off to the
cleaners and, like a fool, didn't give his own
name. Took a name at random, actually one
he'd seen in the hotel register. That's how
your friend got hold of it and, having a good
head on him, he linked it up with the man
climbing up the rope. You step on decayed
fish but you don't put your shou/der down on
it unless you have taken your clothes off to bathe
at night, and no one would bathe for pleasure
on a wet night in September. He fitted the
whole thing together. Very ingenious man,
Mr. MacWhirter."
"More than ingenious," said Audrey.
"M-m, well, perhaps. Like to know about
him? I can tell you something of his history."


Audrey listened attentively. Battle found
her a good listener.
She said:
"I owe a lot to him and to you."
"Don't owe very much to me," said Superintendent
Battle. "If I hadn't been a fool
I'd have seen the point of that bell."
"Bell? What bell?"
"The bell in Lady Tressilian's room. Always
did feel there was something wrong
about that bell. I nearly got it, too, when I
came down the stairs from the top floor and
saw one of those poles you open windows

Audrey still looked bewildered.
"That was the whole point of the bell,
see to give Nevile Strange an alibi. Lady
T. didn't remember what she had rung for
of course she didn't because she hadn't rung
at all.t Nevile rang that bell from outside
in the passage with that long pole, the wires
ran along the ceiling. So down comes Barrett
and sees Mr. Nevile Strange go downstairs
and out, and she finds Lady Tressilian
alive and well. The whole business of the
maid was fishy. What's the good of doping
her for a murder that's going to be committed
before midnight? Ten to one she won't have
pone off troterlv by then. But it fixes the


murder as an inside job, and it allows a little

time for Nevile to play his role of first suspect
then Barrett speaks and Nevile is so

triumphantly cleared that no one is going to
inquire very closely as to exactly what time
he got to the hotel. We know he didn't cross
back by ferry, and no boats had been taken.
There remained the possibility of swimming.
He was a powerful swimmer, but even then
the time must have been short. Up the rope
he's left hanging into his bedroom and a
good deal of water on the floor, as we noticed
(but without seeing the point I'm sorry
to say). Then into his blue coat and trousers,
along to Lady Tressilian's room we won't
go into that wouldn't have taken more
than a couple of minutes, he'd fixed up
that steel ball beforehand then back, out
of his clothes, down the rope and back to
Easterhead."
"Suppose Kay had come in?"
"She'd been mildly doped, I'll bet. She
was yawning from dinner on, so they tell
me. Besides he'd taken care to have a quarrel
with her so that she'd lock her door and
keep out of his way."
"I'm trying to think if I noticed the ball
was gone from the fender. I don't think I
did. When did he tut it back?"


"Next morning when all the hullabaloo
arose. Once he got back in Ted Latimer's
car, he had all night to clear up his traces
and fix things, mend the tennis racket, etc.
By the way, he hit the old lady backhanded, you know. That's why the crime appeared
to be left handed. Strange's backhand was
always his strong point, remember!"
	"Don't don't" Audrey put
	up
	her
hands. "I can't bear any more."

	He smiled at her.
"All the same it's done you good to talk it
all out. Mrs. Strange, may I be impertinent
and give you some advice?"
"Yes, please."
"You lived for eight years with a criminal
lunatic that's enough to snap any woman's
nerves. But you've got to snap out of it now,
Mrs. Strange. You don't need to be afraid
any more and you've got to make yourself
realize that."
Audrey smiled at him. The frozen look

had gone from her face; it was a sweet,
rather timid, but confiding face, with the

wide-apart eyes full of gratitude.
"What's the best way to set about that, I
wonder?"
Superintendent Battle considered.
"Think of the most difficult thine you


can, and then set about doing it," he advised.

III

Andrew MacWhirter was packing.
He laid three shirts carefully in his suitcase,
and then that dark blue suit which he
had remembered to fetch from the cleaners.
Two suits left by two different MacWhirters
had been too much for the girl in charge.
There was a tap on the door and he called,
"Come in."
Audrey Strange walked in. She said:
"I've come to thank you are you pack-lng?"
"Yes. I'm leaving here tonight. And sailing
the day after tomorrow."
"For South America?"
"For Chile."
She said, "I'll pack for you."
He protested, but she overbore him. He
watched her as she worked deftly and methodically.
"There," she said when she had finished.
"You did that well," said MacWhirter. There was a silence. Then Audrey said:


"You saved my life. If you hadn't happened
to see what you did see "
She broke off.
Then she said:
"Did you realize at once, that night on
the cliff when you you stopped me going
over when you said, 'Go home, I'll see that
you're not hanged' did you realize then that
you'd got some important evidence?"
"Not precisely," said MacWhirter. "I had
to think it out."
"Then how could you say. what you did
say?"
MacWhirter always felt annoyed when he
had to explain the intense simplicity of his
thought processes.
"I meant just precisely that that I intended
to prevent you from being hanged."
The color came up in Audrey's cheeks.
"Supposing I had done it."
"That would have made no difference."
"Did you think I had done it, then?"
"I did not speculate upon the matter
overmuch. I was inclined to believe you were
innocent, but it would have made no difference
to my course of action."
"And then you remembered the man on
the rope?"


MacWhirter was silent for a few minutes.
Then he cleared his throat.

"You may as well know, I suppose. I did
not actually see a man climbing up a rope

indeed I could not have done so, for I
was up on Stark Head on Sunday night, not
on Monday. I deduced what must have hap-pened
from the evidence of the suit and my
suppositions were confu'med by the finding
of a wet rope in the attic."

From red Audrey had gone white. She
said incredulously:

"Your story was all a lie?"

"Deductions would not have carried weight
with the police. I had to say I saw what
happened."

"But you might have had to swear to it

at my trial."

"Yes."

"You would have done that?"
"I would."
Audrey cried:

"And you you are the man who lost his
job and came down to throwing himself off
a cliff because he wouldn't tamper with the
truth!'

"I have a great regard for the truth. But
I've discovered there are things that matter
more."


"Such as?"

"You," said MacWhirter.

Audrey's eyes dropped. He cleared his
throat in an embarrassed manner.

"There's no need for you to feel under
a great obligation or anything of that kind.
You'll never hear of me again after today.
The police have got Strange's confession and
they'll not need my evidence. In any case I
hear he's so bad he'll maybe not live to come
to trial."

"I'm glad of that," said Audrey.
"You were fond of him once?"
"Of the man I thought he was."


MacWhirter nodded.

"We've all felt that way, maybe."

He went on.

"Everything's turned out well. Superin-tendent
Battle was able to act upon my story
and break down the man "


Audrey interrupted. She said:

"He worked upon your story, yes. But I
don't believe you fooled him. He deliberately
shut his eyes."

"Why do you say that?"

"When he was talking to me he men-tioned
it was lucky you saw what you did

in the mnnnlicrht and then added somothin


--a sentence or two later about it being a
rainy night."

MacWhirter was taken aback.

"That's true. On Monday night I doubt if

I'd have seen anything at all."

"said Audrey.

"It doesn't matter,

"He knew that what you pretended to
have seen was what had really happened.
But it explains why he worked on Nevile
to break him down. He suspected Nevile as
soon as Thomas told him about me and
Adrian. He knew then that if he was right
about the kind of crime he had fixed on
the wrong person what he wanted was some
kind of evidence to use on Nevile. He
wanted, as he said, a miracle--you were Su-perintendent
Battle's answer to prayer."

"That's a curious thing for him to say,"
said MacWhirter dryly.

"So you see," said Audrey, "you are a
miracle. My special miracle."

MacWhirter said earnestly:

"I'd not like you to feel you're under an
obligation to me. I'm going right out of your

life '

"Must you?" said Audrey.

He stared at her. The color came up,
flooding her ears and temples.

.qhicl'


"Won't you take me with you?"

"You don't know what you're saying!"
"Yes, I do. I'm doing something very
difficult but something that matters to me
more than life or death. I know the time is
very short. By the way, I'm conventional, I
should like to be married before we go!"

"Naturally," said MacWhirter, deeply
shocked. "You don't imagine I'd suggest
anything else."

"I'm sure you wouldn't," said Audrey.
MacWhirter said:

"I'm not your kind. I thought you'd marry
that quiet fellow who's cared for you so long."

"Thomas? Dear true Thomas. He's too
true. He's faithful to the image of a girl he
loved years ago. But the person he really
cares for is Mary Aldin, though he doesn't
know it yet himself."

MacWhirter took a step towards her. He
spoke sternly.

"Do you mean what you're saying?"

"Yes . . . I want to be with you always,
never to leave you. If you go, I shall never
find anybody like you, and I shall go sadly
all my days."

MacWhirter sighed. He took out his wal-let
and carefully examined its contents.

He murmured:


",4 special license comes expensive. I'll
need to go to the bank first thing tomor-row.
'

"I could lend you some money," mur-mured
Audrey.

"You'll do nothing of the kind. If I marry
a woman, I pay for the license. You under-stand?"

"You needn't," said Audrey softly, "look
so stern."

He said gently as he came towards her,
"Last time I had my hands on you, you
felt like a bird strugglirg to escape. You'll
never escape now .... "


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