The Matarese Circle - By Robert Ludlum Page 0,208

doing so behind enemy lines a part of his commendations. Scofield remained in front of her chair and spoke again. "But I can't say I ever noticed any great changes in him, other than getting older. Of course, I didn't know him that well twenty years ago, but to me he's still one of the finest men I've ever known." "Inside!" The old woman whispered harshly. "It's all inside! He's a mask.... and people adore him so." Suddenly tears were in her clouded eyes, and the words that followed a cry from deep within her memory. "They should adore him! He was such a beautiful boy, such a beautiful young man. There was no one ever like my Josh, no one more loving, more filled with kindness!... Until they did those terrible things to him." She wept. "And I was such a dreadful person. I was his mother and I couldn't understand! I wanted my Joshua backI I wanted him back so badly!" Bray knelt down and took the glass from her. "What do you mean you wanted him back?" "I couldn't understandl He was so cold, so distant. They'd taken the joy out of him. There was no joy in him! He came out of the hospital... and the pain had been too much and I couldn't understand. He looked at me and there was no joy, DO love. Not inside!" "The hospital? The accident after the war-just after the war?" "He suffered so much... and I was drinking so much... so much. Every week he was in that awful war I drank more and more. I couldn't stand it!

He was all I had. My husband was... in name only-as much my fault as his, I suppose. He was disgusted with me. But I loved my Josh so." The old woman reached for the glass. He got to it first and poured her a drink. She looked at him through her tears, her floating eyes filled with the sadness of knowing what she was. "I thank you very much," she said with simple dignity.

"You're welcome," he answered, feeling helpless.

"In a way," she whispered, "I still have him but he doesn't know it. No one does." "How is that?" "When I moved out of Appleton Hall... on Appleton Hill... I kept his room just the way it was, the way it had been. You see, he never came back, not really. Only for an hour one night to pick up some things. So I took a room here and made it his. It will always be his, but he doesn't know it." Bray knelt down in front of her again. "Mrs. Appleton, may I see that room? Please, may I see it?" "Oh, no, that wouldn't be right," she said. "It's very private. It's his, and I'm the only one he lets in. He lives there still, you see. My beautiful Joshua." "I've got to see that room, Mrs. Appleton. Where is it?" Instinct.

"Why do you have to see it?" "I can help you. I can help your son. I know it." She squinted, studying him from some inner place. "You're a kind man, aren't you? And you're not as young as I thought. Your face has lines, and there is gray at your temples. You have a strong mouth, did anyone ever tell you that?" "No, I don't think anyone ever did. Please, Mrs. Appleton, I must see that room. Allow me to." "It's nice that you ask. People rarely ask me for anything anymore; they just tell me. Very well, help me to my lift, and we'll go upstairs. You understand, of course, we'll have to knock first. If he says you can't come in, you'll have to stay outside." Scofield guided her through the living room arch to the chair lift. He walked beside her up the staircase to the second floor landing where he helped her to her feet.

"This way," she said, gesturing toward a narrow, darkened corridor. "It's the last door on the right." They reached it, stood in front of it for a moment, and then the old woman rapped lightly on the wood. "We'll know in a minute," she continued, bending her head as if listening for a command from within. "It's all right," she said, smiling. "He said you could come in, but you mustn't touch anything. He has everything arranged the way he likes it." She opened the door, and flipped a switch on the wall. Three separate lamps went on;