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 trench 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 colour. The exquisite line from the jaw to the ear, the tender modelling of chin and 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 themselves that were beautiful. The sequinned dress she wore accentuated the effect of the moonlight. 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 ear-ring -I must have dropped it"
"Where? Let me look -"
They both bent down, awkward and embarrassed - and collided in doing so. Audrey sprang away. Nevile exclaimed : "Wait a sec - my cuff button - it's caught in your hair. Standstill."
She stood quite still as he fumbled with the button.
"Oo - 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 onlookers to see what Audrey could not see, the trembling of Nevile's hands as he strove to free the strand of fair silvery hair.
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 respectfully: "Her ladyship's compliments, and she would be glad to see Mr. Treves up in her room."
VI
Lady Tressilian received Mr. Treves with evident pleasure.
He and she were soon deep in an agreeable 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 savour to life."
"By the way," said Lady Tressilian, "what do you dunk of our example of the eternal triangle?"
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.
Mr. Treves admitted : "She has charm - yes."
Lady Tressilian exclaimed: "Do you mean to tell me you can understand a man leaving Audrey, who is a - a person of rare quality, for - for a Kay?"
Mr. Treves replied calmly: "Perfectly. It happens frequently."
"Disgusting. I should soon grow tired 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 - whatever 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."
"You think so?"
"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 apparent 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 pursued 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 modern 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! 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 turn 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 surprised 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 gradually creeping along behind me, always at my shoulder - gradually forcing me to sink to one indignity after another of illness. Increasing helplessness -increasing dependence on other people!"
"But very devoted people, I am sure. You have a faithful maid?"
"Barrett? The one who brought you up. The comfort of my life! A grim old battle-axe, 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 marvellous. 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 the servants happy - she eliminates all quarrels and jealousies -I don't know how she does it - just tact, I suppose."
"She has been with you long?"
"Twelve years - no, more than that. Thirteen - fourteen - something like that. She has been a great comfort."
Mr. Treves nodded.
Lady Tressilian, watching him through half-closed lids, said suddenly: "What's the matter? You're worried about something?"
"A trifle," said Mr. Treves. "A mere trifle. Your eyes are sharp."
"I like studying people," said Lady Tressilian. "I always knew at once if there was anything on Matthew's mind." She sighed and leaned back on her pillows. "I must say good night to you now" - it was a Queen's dismissal, nothing discourteous about it - "I am very tired. But it has been a great, great pleasure. Come and see me again soon."
"You may depend upon my taking advantage of those kind words. I only hope I have not talked too long."
"Oh, no. I always tire very suddenly. Ring my bell for me, will you, before you go?"
Mr. Treves pulled gingerly at a large old-fashioned bell-pull that ended in a huge tassel.
"Quite a survival," he remarked.
"My bell? Yes. No newfangled electric bells for me. Half of the time they're out of order and you go on pressing away! This thing never fails. It rings in Barrett's room upstairs - the bell hangs over her bed. So there's never any delay in answering it. If there is I pull it again pretty quickly."
As Mr. Treves went out of the room he heard the bell pulled a second time and heard the tinkle of it somewhere above his head. He looked up and noticed the wires that ran along the ceiling. Barrett came hurriedly down a flight of stairs and passed him, going to her mistress.
Mr. Treves went slowly downstairs, not troubling with the little lift on the downward journey. His face was drawn into a frown of uncertainty.
He found the whole party assembled in the drawing-room, and Mary Aldin at once suggested bridge, but Mr. Treves refused politely on the plea that he must very shortly be starting for home.
"My hotel," he said, "is old-fashioned. They do not expect anyone to be out after midnight."
"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 Victorian 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 wardrobes. Immense baths with mahogany surrounds."
"Weren't you saying you were annoyed 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 forbidden me. When I arrived I was vexed to find the rooms were not available. Instead, I was allotted two rooms (very pleasant rooms, 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."
"Mr. 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 inconvenience."
Kay said: "Ted, why don't you come and stay at the Balmoral Court? You'd be much more accessible."
"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 newspaper sensation of the moment.
"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," 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 people 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 mentioned 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. That 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."
