A moment later, Simon saw them, and, at the end of the dance, he came over, smiling and imperturbable as ever, to greet them. Rosalie, of course, came with him, to give a cool nod of recognition at her cousin, and a smile of unusual sweetness and gentleness at Julian.

Alison watched her helplessly, feeling dull and childish and unattractive, as she almost always did in Rosalie’s presence.

‘Dare I assume that Julian will spare you for a little while to come and dance with me?’ Simon asked her. He seemed quite unaware of any tension, and it didn’t appear to dawn on him that this move would inevitably leave Julian and Rosalie together.

She went with him. There was nothing else to do, though really she felt as though she were being pulled in two, for her heart went with Julian as, politely and calmly, he drew Rosalie on to the dancing-floor.

At random she answered Simon’s lazy, amusing comments. And afterwards, when he wanted to take her to have champagne, she tried to make an excuse to get away. But it wasn’t easy. He overruled her with careless firmness, and took her to one of the small completely secluded alcoves, where he left her for a moment while he went to fetch their drinks.

Alison buried her face in her hands. Not that she was anywhere near tears. It was just that she felt so frighteningly helpless and inexperienced. The situation was completely out of hand.

In her last glance round the room before she had come here with Simon, she had been unable to see any sign of Julian and Rosalie. Was he being forced into a tête-à-tête, too-something far more difficult and dangerous than anything she need expect with Simon?

She dropped her hands quickly as she heard Simon’s step, and when he came in she was looking quite composed once more.

He handed her her glass, and sat down at the other end of the settee, almost facing her. For a moment he looked at her over his glass with those strange dark eyes of his that gave away no secrets.

‘To your-eventual happiness, Alison,’ he said, and drank.

Alison had her lips against the rim of her glass before she realised the full implication of that. A little unsteadily she set it down.

‘Why do you say that, Simon? What makes you think I’m not happy now?’

‘Dear child, how can you be?’ His actual tone was light, but somehow she didn’t think it was a light matter to him.

‘I still don’t know what you mean.’ Alison felt the utmost reluctance to continue the conversation, but she could not refuse to take up that remark.

He shrugged slightly, and again he gave that odd little smile.

‘At the moment you imagine you are in love with a man who wants another woman. It’s not a happy situation for any girl,’ he said.

‘Aren’t you-making-some rather unpardonable remarks?’ Alison spoke a little jerkily, but with a certain youthful dignity.

Simon put down his glass then and, leaning forward, looked at her with deadly seriousness.

‘You needn’t pretend with me, Alison,’ he said slowly. ‘I know Julian, and Rosalie, and-yes, you also-too well for me not to understand the situation.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Alison said in an obstinate whisper, though she knew, of course, that it was ridiculous to go on repeating that.

‘Oh, yes, you do.’ He spoke quite gently and, putting out his hand, he lightly took her by her wrist The touch of his fingers on her arm was almost imperceptible, and yet for some reason she felt vaguely frightened. ‘Even now you can scarcely keep your thoughts on what I’m saying, because you’re wondering frightenedly what she is saying to him.’

Alison gave him a quick, scared look, and then dropped her eyes.

‘You know as well as I do that Rosalie was always an obsession with him,’ Simon went on quietly. ‘She is physically attractive to him in a way no other woman could ever be.’

Alison winced angrily, but could think of nothing to stop him. She could only wonder bewilderedly why Simon should think it necessary to say all this to her.

‘Just to see her is enough to unnerve him,’ he told her. ‘You noticed it, too, to-night.’

‘Oh, why did she have to be here?’ Alison broke in bitterly. ‘I thought we should be safe with people from Julian’s office. I don’t know even now how she could have come.’

‘I brought her.’.

‘You, Simon! But how could you, if you-you understand as much as you say? How could you do anything so cruel?’

‘Perhaps I thought it would be the best thing in the end.’ Simon never took his eyes from her face, and for a moment hers met his in bewilderment.

‘You mean you thought it best that Julian should get used to seeing her as soon as possible?’

Simon smiled and shook his head.

‘Oh, no. I’m afraid my motives were not so unselfish. If I wanted to be trite, Alison dear, I might remind you that all’s fair in love and war.’

‘But’-Alison frowned-’you don’t mean that your sympathies are with Rosalie?’

Simon gave a little shout of laughter.

‘Good God, no! Won’t you understand, you darling little fool? It’s not Rosalie or Julian I’m interested in. Let them make a success of it or a hash of it together. I don’t care. Only let them do whatever they’re going to do quickly, so that you won’t go on eating your heart out for someone who can’t appreciate you.’

‘I think you must be mad.’ Alison tried to get to her feet. But he held her back, and with a sudden, quick movement he had her lying in his arms.

‘Of course I’m mad. Every man’s mad when he’s as much in love as I am. What are Rosalie or Julian or any of them to me? It’s you-you-you. Do you understand now? I’ve never cared a farthing for any woman before, but I wanted you the first time I saw you.’

‘Don’t!’ Alison struggled terrifiedly. It’s you who won’t understand. It’s Julian I love.’

‘Julian!’ Simon’s voice was almost a whisper, but burning with contempt. ‘Julian!-who pats you on the head, treats you like a child, and, I suppose, sleeps on the sofa because there’s only one bedroom in his flat. That’s all the use Julian has for you-while all the time you were made for this.’

And, before she could stop him, his mouth was on hers-not lightly, not laughingly, this time, but with an intensity of passion that left her lips feeling bruised and burning.

CHAPTER VIII

FOR a long moment there was silence, except for the sound of dance-music coming faintly from the ballroom beyond.

Then Simon spoke at last.

‘Well’-his voice sounded slightly defiant-’have you nothing at all to say to me?’

He stared down at her as she lay perfectly still now in his arms, her eyes half closed and her cheeks very pale.

She raised her heavy lashes then.

‘What do you expect me to say, Simon?’

He gave a half-vexed little laugh.

‘Reproaches of some sort, I suppose,’ he admitted. ‘At any rate at first.’

‘Yes. I shouldn’t think it feels specially nice to know you’ve been so brutal and-beastly.’

‘I’m sorry, my darling.’ He spoke eagerly now, and tenderly. Lifting her very gently, he put her back on the settee, piling the cushions behind her and making her comfortable.

‘See-I won’t even touch your hand. I know, I always frighten you a little, don’t I? I forget that you’re so young and gentle and unawakened. But I’ll remember now, Alison. I’ll never frighten you like that again Only I had to make you listen to me. You must listen to me now.’

She made a gesture of protest.

‘Haven’t you said more than enough already?’

‘No. Because I’ve only said the things that frighten and revolt you. I’ve made you think I can’t be anything but passionate and violent, And it isn’t true, Alison dear. There’s tenderness for you too, and warmth and gentleness.’

She saw that he was pale with the intensity of his own feelings, and for a moment she felt almost sorry for him. There was something strangely moving in the sight of such burning, suppressed emotion in anyone who was usually so cool.