owed in the
two-seater. And then--I got to know you--at St. Bertrand--that
wonderful, wonderful day.... I--was--so--awfully--happy.... And
now"--his voice sank to a wail--"I wish I hadn't. If only I'd stopped
to think.... But I didn't. I just knew I wanted to be with you, and
that was all. Oh," he burst out suddenly, "why did I ever do it? Why
did I ever follow you--that wonderful day? If I'd dreamed how
miserable it'd make me, how miserably wretched I'd be... It's the
dreadful hopelessness, Jill, the dreadful hopelessness.... But I can't
help it. It's something stronger than me. It's not enough to be with
you. I want to touch you: I want to put my arms round your neck: I
want to play with your hair.... Of course I'm terribly lucky to be
able to kiss your hand, but---- Ah, don't be frightened. I was--only
playing, Jill, only pretending. And now I'm going to be all serious
again--not quiet, but serious. Good-bye, Madonna. Have you ever seen
_Pagliacci_? Where the fellow bursts into tears? I think I could do
that part this afternoon...."

A light padding upon the gravel came to our ears.

Then a car's door slammed.

A moment later Piers' two-seater purred its way down the drive....

Adele and I continued to sit very still.

Presently I turned to her and raised my eyebrows.

"Hopelessness?" I whispered. "Hopelessness? What on earth does he
mean?"

My wife shrugged her shoulders helplessly.

Then she laid a finger upon her lips.

I nodded obediently.

* * * * *

"Yes," said Berry, "you see in me a nervous wreck. My heart's
misfiring, I'm over at the knees, and with the slightest encouragement
I can break into a cold sweat."

He sank into a chair and covered his eyes....

I had meant to meet him at the station, but the early train had beaten
me, so Fitch had gone with the car. Indeed, it was not yet eight
o'clock, and Daphne was still abed. That had not prevented us from
following Berry into her room, any more than had the fact that no one
of us was ready for breakfast. I had no coat or waistcoat: so far as
could be seen, Jonah was attired in a Burberry and a pair of trousers:
a glance at Adele suggested that she was wearing a fur coat, silk
stockings, and a tortoise-shell comb, while Jill was wrapped in a
kimono, with her fresh fair hair tumbled about her shoulders.

Jonah voiced our anxiety.

"You--you've got the goods?"

"They're downstairs," said