believe a yarn like that! If that's all you have, Stratton----"

Sec. 9

Our London house was not shut up--two servants were there on board-wages
against the possibility of such a temporary return as I was now
making--Rachel was away with you three children at Cromingham. I had not
told her I was returning to London, and I had put up at one of my clubs.
Until I had had a second interview with Maxwell Hartington I still would
not let myself think that it was possible that Mary and I would fail
with our explanations. We had the common confidence of habitually
unchallenged people that our word would be accepted. I had hoped indeed
to get the whole affair settled and abolished without anything of it
coming to Rachel's ears. Then at my leisure I should be able to tell her
exactly how things had come about. But each day made it clearer that
things were not going to be settled, that the monstrous and the
incredible was going to happen and that Justin had set his mind
implacably upon a divorce. My sense of complete innocence had already
been shaken by Maxwell Hartington; I had come to perceive that we had
been amazingly indiscreet, I was beginning to think we had been
criminally indiscreet.

I saw Maxwell Hartington for a second time, and it became clear to me I
must abandon any hope of keeping things further from Rachel. I took my
luggage round to my house, to the great astonishment of the two
servants,--they had supposed of course that I was in Italy--and then
went down on the heels of a telegram to Rachel. I forget the wording of
that telegram, but it was as little alarming as possible; I think I said
something about "back in London for documents; shall try to get down to
you." I did not specify any particular train or indeed state definitely
that I was coming that day.

I had never been to Cromingham before. I went to the house you occupied
on the Esplanade and learnt that you were all upon the beach. I walked
along the sea-wall scrutinizing the various bright groups of children
and nursemaids and holiday people that were scattered over the sands. It
was a day of blazing sunshine, and, between the bright sky and the
silver drabs of the sand stretched the low levels of a sea that had its
customary green-grey touched for once with something of the sapphire
glow of the Mediterranean. Here and there were gay little umbrella tents
or canvas shelters, and a bather or so and pink and white wading
children broke the dazzling