He backed the car, turned it, and a few seconds later they were heading for London at the full speed of Julian’s powerful car.

She thought at first that he must say something. They couldn’t, surely, drive in silence after all that had happened?

But in silence they drove.

For a while she was relieved. Then she became vaguely annoyed. Was he doing the lofty, injured husband? she wondered resentfully. It didn’t come very well from him in the circumstances.

She wanted to say, ‘Life is melodramatic, as Simon says. In the afternoon I find you in Rosalie’s arms, and in the evening you discover me apparently preparing to spend the night with Simon.’

But she stole a look at Julian’s face and thought it would be wiser not to try this piece of defiance.

Then on one point her sheer curiosity got the better of her.

‘How did you guess where I was?’ she asked in a low voice.

‘I never thought of your being anywhere else,’ he said quite simply.

‘Didn’t you?’ Alison couldn’t hide her astonishment, ‘But why?’

‘Hadn’t we better leave all that until to-morrow?’ he said.

‘To-morrow? Aren’t we going to-to have things out tonight?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you’ve had all the emotional scenes you can stand for one night.’

‘Oh,’ Alison. suddenly wanted to cry at this queer little instance of his thought for her. It was so different-so utterly different-from Simon’s way of forcing an issue, even to the point of being brutal.

‘You’d better just sit back and keep quiet. Shut your eyes and sleep if you can,’ Julian told her.

And for once Alison was rather glad to have him treat her like a child.

In the end, she must have dozed, because there was a gap when she didn’t seem to be thinking about anything. And then she found Julian was carrying her from the car into the flat.

She said something sleepily about being able to walk, but he didn’t seem to hear. Anyway, he took no notice, but carried her right into her bedroom.

‘You’d better go straight to bed, Alison.’

‘Yes,’ she. said, rubbing her eyes rather childishly.

‘Is there anything you want, or will you be quite all right now?’ He spoke very gently.

‘I don’t want anything. I’m all right, thank you. I just-’ just want to go to bed.’

‘Yes, of course. I’ll leave word for you not to be woken in the morning. You’ll need to sleep on.’

She wanted to say pettishly, ‘I’m not ill.’ It hurt to have him so solicitous about her, for it implied that he felt guilty -about Rosalie.’Good night.’ he said.

‘Good night. Julian.’ She forgot about Rosalie suddenly, and wished passionately that he would kiss her good night, He had done so quite. often lately, and perhaps-

But he didn’t, of course. She supposed he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Anyway, it would not have meant anything-any more than the other times had meant anything, she realised now.

She got to bed, weary beyond description. At first she cried a little, partly because it was such a relief to be alone, and partly because she was so frightened of the future. Then she. felt too tired even to cry, and, with the tears still on her cheeks, she sank into a heavy and dreamless sleep.

When she woke again she stared incredulously at the little clock on her table. It said nearly half-past twelve, and from the depth of the light filtering through the curtains she knew it must be somewhere near that time.

Leaning upon her elbow, she rang the bell.

‘Is that really the time, Jenny?’ she said to the maid who came in.

‘Yes, madam.’

‘Goodness, how awful,’ Alison said. But Jenny smiled indulgently. She liked her young mistress. and didn’t see why she shouldn’t stay in bed all day if she wanted to.

‘Mr. Tyndrum said perhaps you would like your lunch in your room, madam.’

Alison considered that.

‘Well-yes, Jenny, I think perhaps I would,’ she said.

and leant back against the pillows again with a slight sigh. She felt a little bit weak and funny, somehow-rather as she had once when she had been convalescing after flu.

It was stupid, of course, because she had never felt better in her life until yesterday afternoon.

When Jenny had gone, she rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. It made her feel sick even now to think of yesterday afternoon, and what had happened then. The scene with Simon afterwards was beginning to look almost insignificant in comparison. After all, she had come quite safely out of that, whereas the reckoning over Rosalie still remained.

Ordinarily, she was more inclined to face things than to avoid them, but she was thankful just now of even an hour or two’s reprieve from the impending scene with Julian.

‘There’s one thing-I must keep calm,’ she told herself. ‘Otherwise I shall go and cry, and then Julian just might guess-and then I’d die.’

When her lunch came she didn’t feel very much like eating it, but she did her best, and then lay there telling herself she must get up.

But, instead, she fell asleep again-to wake with a fearful start, late in the afternoon.

Her heart felt like lead, and she was breathing in quick shallow little breaths. It was a hideous feeling-like waking at school on the morning of a particularly awful exam, only ten times worse.

It was no good shirking things any longer, however, so she got up, thinking how strange it seemed to be bathing and dressing at this hour in the afternoon.

She put on a little brown velvet suit with a pale honey-coloured blouse that Julian had once admired. She always had a special affection for the clothes he liked, though, of course, there wasn’t much sense in thinking about that sort of thing just now.

Julian was not in the lounge when she looked in, so she went along to his study, and there he was, sitting at his desk. He appeared to be writing absorbedly, but she had the quite preposterous impression that until her knock sounded he had been sitting with his head in his hands.

He got up at once, however, and rather anxiously made her come and sit down in a comfortable chair.

‘Do you feel better, Alison? I was getting quite worried about you.’

‘Oh, yes, I’m all right now, thank you.’ She smiled bravely. ‘I’m ashamed to have slept so long.’

‘I expect it was what you needed,’ he said kindly, and then there was an awkward silence.

She glanced at him and saw that, if she had slept well, he had not. There was an air of strain about him that went to her heart.

‘We have a lot-to talk about, Julian,’ she said a little diffidently.

‘Yes, my dear, we have a lot to talk about’

And then suddenly she wanted nothing in the world so much as to reassure him. She put out her hand and took his gently as he stood beside her chair.

‘Julian dear, I want you to know-I don’t blame you in the least’

His face changed indescribably, and she saw he was intensely moved. She supposed it was a fearful relief to him that she should have guessed so much and that few explanations were necessary.

‘My darling child, how dear and generous of you,’ he exclaimed in a low voice. ‘But I blame myself-terribly.’

‘Please don’t,’ Alison said sadly. ‘It was our crazy marriage that was to blame. I remember., the very first moment I suggested it, you told me it would be a ridiculous and unnatural position. You were quite right, of course. Something like this was bound to happen.’

Julian bit his lip, and, even in the firelight, she could see how pale he was.

‘Yes," he admitted, ‘something like this was bound to happen. The only thing that lessens my self-reproach is that the marriage can be cancelled without much fuss. You will be able to divorce me quite quietly.’

‘Of course,’ Alison began. And then the rest stuck in her throat because it hurt unbelievably that he should expect without question that she would let him go at once.