“You said you hated me.”

Rafe laughed. It was a queer jerky sound.

“I had to try and get you to go away. You weren’t safe. Did you really think I hated you?”

She put her hand to her cheek – the old gesture which had always caught at his heart. It said, “I’m defenceless – I don’t know what to do.”

He came over to her, pulled a chair up close to hers, and sat down on the arm.

“Let’s talk about it. I want to. I’ve been wanting to ever since – but – I can’t get the right words.”

She was looking up at him, her grey eyes dark, her colour now there, now gone.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve used them all up. I’ve made love to dozens of girls, but it’s all been a game – very pleasant at the time and no feelings hurt when it was over – love all and vantage all. But none of that’s any use now. It didn’t mean a thing – it was just a game. Now it’s – well, for the last twelve months it’s been hell.”

Her hand fell into her lap. She didn’t speak.

“Naturally you must hate the very sight of anyone connected with Tanfield. I said that to you just now, and you said ‘Why?’ I’ve been saying that to myself ever since July, and I’ve never got any further than ‘Why not?’ But I have got to the point where I want to know how we stand, and whether there’s ever going to be any hope for me. And before you say anything I want you to listen to me, and I want you to tell me the truth – the real truth. And you needn’t bother about wrapping it up – it won’t be any good.”

Lisle caught her lip between her teeth. Something in her was quivering. Her lip quivered too. She tried to hold it steady.

Rafe leaned forward. He put a hand on the arm of her chair.

“How do you feel when you’re with me?”

She was silent.

“You must know. You needn’t mind about hurting my feelings. We used to go about together a lot. What did you feel then?”

She said, “Safe,” and saw the colour run up into his face, darkening and changing it. Some of that haggard look was gone when the flush died down.

He said, “Is that true?” and she gave a grave little nod.

“Yes – quite true. I don’t tell lies. I always felt safe when you were there. Even when I was in the pool I felt safe – after you came.”

He drew back with a jerk.

“A kind of super policeman! By the way, I’ve made great friends with March. He’s a good chap.”

What had she said? Why had he suddenly drawn away like that just when the strangeness was melting away between them? Was it what she had said about the pool? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she couldn’t bear it if he went away and became a polite stranger again – Rafe, who had always been so lightly and cheerfully free with his tongue. Her colour rose. She looked at him in distress.

“Do you mind if we talk about it? I think we must – just this once. Because if we don’t, it will always be there – between us.”

The odd crooked smile again, changing to a sudden gravity.

“Go on then. What do you want to talk about?”

“Dale.”

The new bright colour went out as suddenly as a candle in the wind. It was as if a cold, dark wind out of the past had rushed between them.

He said, “Very well.”

She kept her eyes on his face.

“Did he ever love me – at all? It makes a difference, you see. I want to know the truth. Sometimes I think he did – at first. And then he got angry – about the money – and about Tanfield. I oughtn’t to have let him know I hated Tanfield. That was one of the things that made him want to kill me – he said so down at the pool. I keep on going over and over it in my own mind. That is why I want to know the truth. Do you think he did love me at all?”

Rafe didn’t look at her. He said in a strained voice,

“Dale didn’t love people. Sometimes he wanted them. He wanted Alicia. I don’t know what would have happened if he had married her. He wanted Lydia because of her money. He wanted you – not altogether because of the money, though he wouldn’t have married you if you hadn’t had it. That’s the truth, Lisle.”

There was a silence that went on, and on, and on. He looked at her at last and broke it.

“Does it hurt so much?”

She said, “Not now.” And then, “It feels as if it was all very far away and a long time ago – a little as if I really had died that night and all those things had happened in another life – as if I’d left them a long way behind-” Her voice faltered and stopped.

He leaned forward again.

“Am I one of the things you have left behind?”

She said, “I don’t know – that’s for you-”

All at once he was on his feet with her hands in his, pulling her up to face him.

“Why are we talking like this? I’ve told you I love you! It’s been hell, but it might be heaven. I don’t want to keep you safe – I’m not asking for a resident policeman’s job. I want you to love me – I want you to marry me. I want you to come and live at the Manor with me. I don’t want to talk about the past or think about the past any more. I want to know whether you love me. Do you? Do you?”

Her voice trembled into laughter. It was the sweetest sound he had heard.

“I wondered when you were going ask me that.”

Patricia Wentworth

Born in Mussoorie, India, in 1878, Patricia Wentworth was the daughter of an English general. Educated in England, she returned to India, where she began to write and was first published. She married, but in 1906 was left a widow with four children, and returned again to England where she resumed her writing, this time to earn a living for herself and her family. She married again in 1920 and lived in Surrey until her death in 1961.

Miss Wentworth’s early works were mainly historical fiction, and her first mystery, published in 1923, was The Astonishing Adventure of Jane Smith. In 1928 she wrote The Case Is Closed and gave birth to her most enduring creation, Miss Maud Silver.