Thank God for this man's world. "First condition is that you love me with all your heart and soul."

"Oh I will try, and try to be the best wife ever." Her arms tightened. "And?"

He heard the edge of underlying concern and laughed.

"That's all, except you promise to let me teach you bridge, and mah-jongg--then you'll never need pin money from me or anyone."

She stared at him a moment, then reached up.

Their kiss sealed their bargain and then he eased off, too heated. "I can hardly wait, Angelique."

"Nor I."

"Now we must plan, there's not much time. First get Sir William's signature, quick as a wink. My darling, I'm so happy you've accepted me."

She felt like purring. "I'm more happy than I can say. When you get back, do we stay here or leave for Shanghai?"

"Shanghai, as soon as possible--soon as the Brocks go under." He kissed her nose.

"Ah the Brocks. You're sure? You're sure about them? Our whole future, everything depends on that, doesn't it?"

"And Tess, but yes, my evidence is enough, and her venom will cement their ruin--she must realize it too or she'd never have made even this paltry offer. Even so, we must be careful, what we're like in private, that's different, but for six months --it'll take me that long to get you to Shanghai, your reputation blemishless, Rothwell-Gornt into place, your finances--we must act like good friends only. I adore you."

For answer her arms tightened again. Then she said, "Is it your custom to make a marriage contract?"

"No. But if you wish it, we will." He saw the smile that masked and promised and masked.

"It's not necessary, is it? We're interlinked, our future's joined, we're one entity even now.

Success depends on our joint performance, and on me for us. Never forget Tess is adroit, cunning and won't be cheated, a deal is a deal with her. Even so, I promise you'll get what you want."

Yes I will, she thought.

In shock, Sir William put the last of Andr`e's pages onto the side table, all of them in French and in Andr`e's handwriting. "My God," he muttered and shifted in his frayed, comfortable old chair. His anteroom was pleasant, a fire burning merrily, his curtains drawn against the drafts.

He got up, feeling very old, poured a drink, stared at the file of papers in disbelief, then again sat and leafed through them. The final part of Angelique's father's letter, carefully pasted together, clearly suggested a calculated scheme to snare Malcolm Struan, other pages set out dates and details of the ronin assassin's rape at Kanagawa and curious death at the French Legation, the name of the mama-san who supplied the medicine, how the "lost earrings" paid for it, and how Andr`e had rowed out to sea to dispose of the evidence--some towels, the herbs, and one of the two bottles, the other left as proof, now waiting in his Legation desk drawer.

His covering letter had said, Sir William, by the time you read this I am already dead. This evidence is to be used if I meet a violent end. I openly confess I used my knowledge to extract money from Angelique, yes, blackmail if you wish to put a word to it, but then blackmail is a diplomatic tool which you've used, as we all have. This information is given you as I may have been murdered, or my death made to look accidental, not necessarily by her but because of her, assisted by her--another truth is that quite a few would commit murder for her (babcott, McFay, Gornt)--because of my unique knowledge and participation in her...

"crimes" is too strong a word... her manipulations makes me a target.

These pages give you evidence to catch the murderer and lay the blame where it eventually will lead. I bear Angelique no ill will, I used her as I needed though never bedded her. If my death appears accidental it may not be. If is, so be it, I've made my confession (though told none of the above to Father Leo) and go before you into the great adventure--as unclean as most, much more than most, God help me.

Why have I given you this, and not Henri? Why indeed?

It was boldly signed.

"Why me indeed?" Sir William muttered, "and how is it possible that that slip of a girl could hide all this for so long, hide it from Malcolm Struan for God's sake? From George and Hoag for God's sake? Impossible, surely impossible, Andr`e must have taken leave of his senses and yet..."

Apart her father's letter--and even that, taken out of context, could be an exaggeration of the truth--the rest is just Andr`e's opinion, unless she's challenged and confesses. These stories could be fabrications of a demented mind. Of course he wanted her too, how many times have we all noticed him letching after her and there was that curious happening when Vervene found him in her room. And bloody curious he used "unclean" like that, when he really was, poor fellow.

He shuddered. Seratard had whispered Andr`e's secret to him. Syphilis was endemic in all strata of society, in all cities, towns and villages, in St. Petersburg, London, Paris, in palaces as well as the vilest areas of the Casbah, it could lurk in any whorehouse or with any Lady of the Night, in China or in our Floating World here.

Ah Andr`e, why give all this to me?

Curious you died as you did, hand in hand with the girl you bought to destroy. How evil! Except she had a choice, so we are led to believe. Your death was an accident. Was it? Henri's not sure.

"It's all very curious, William,"

Henri had said this morning. "The bodies, skeletons would be more accurate, lay as though they were dead before the fire arrived, no sign of trying to escape by either of them. Just side by side, hands together. I'm bewildered, for all his faults Andr`e was a survivor, and in a fire it's instinct to try to escape, you don't just lie there, you can't, not possible."

"Then what's the answer?"' "I don't know. It could have been a suicide pact that was concluded before the fire. Poison, nothing else would fit. It's true he was morbid recently to the point of insanity, and needed money desperately to pay for her. Apart from that, Andr`e a suicide? Do you believe that?"' No, not Andr`e, Sir William thought disquieted. Was he poisoned, or both of them.

Now there's a motive for murder. Good God Almighty, is that possible? Yes it is but who?

Wearily, greatly troubled, he closed his eyes. The more he tried to answer that question the more distracted he became. The door opened silently. His Number One Boy padded in, began to greet him but seeing the paleness and age on his Master's face, frowned, presumed him to be sleeping, so poured a whisky and put it quietly beside him on the table. His eyes flicked over Andr`e's letters that were atop the file, then, as silently, he went out.

A few minutes later there was a knock.

Sir William awoke with a start as Babcott popped his head in. "Got a minute?"

"Oh, hello, George, of course." Sir William put the letters into a folder grimly aware of the attraction they seemed to radiate.

"Take a seat, like a drink, what's up?"

"Nothing." Babcott was more tired than ever before. "Won't stay, just wanted to say I'm going to get a few hours sleep. The count so far is three fellows from Drunk Town, one an Australian barkeeper and two vagrants, no papers--there may be other bodies in the wreckage but who knows when the cleanup will be finished. No one seems very concerned."

"What about the village and Yoshiwara?"

"We'll never get a count." Babcott yawned. "They seem to consider those sorts of statistics national secrets. Can't blame them, we're the outsiders. Not many casualties I'd imagine. Same on our Yoshiwara, thank God--you heard that each Inn had an emergency cellar?"

"Damn clever. We'd better institute the same idea."

"Pity about Andr`e..." Babcott said, and at once another twinge went through Sir William. "... we were terribly lucky more of our people didn't get caught, how Phillip got out with his life I just don't know. William, he's badly shaken up by the loss of his girl, why not give him a couple of weeks leave, let him go to Hong Kong or Shanghai?"