moment he could see the girl she had once been. "I used to read about it... I've always been fascinated, you know, with anything to do with the Poles. That Norwegian, wasn't it, Amundsen, who got there first? I think the Poles are much more exciting than Everest or any of these satellites, or going to the Moon or anything like that."
He seized on his cue and began to talk to her about the Expedition. Odd that her romantic interest should lie there, in Polar Explorations. She said at last with a sigh: "It's wonderful hearing about it all from someone who's actually been there." She went on: "You want to know all about - about Jackie?"
"Yes."
"You wouldn't use my name or anything like that?"
"Of course not. I've told you so. You know how these things are done. Mrs. M. Lady Y. That sort of thing."
"Yes. Yes, I've read that kind of book - and I suppose it was, as you said, path -patho -"
"Pathological," he said.
"Yes, Jackie was definitely a pathological case. He could be ever so sweet, you know," she said. "Wonderful, he was. He'd say things and you'd believe every word of it."
"He probably meant them," said Calgary.
'"I'm old enough to be your mother,' I used to say to him, and he'd say he didn't care for girls. Crude, he used to say girls were. He used to say women who were experienced and mature were what attracted him."
"Was he very much in love with you?" said Calgary.
"He said he was. He seemed to be..." Her lips trembled. "And all the time, I suppose, he was just after the money."
"Not necessarily," said Calgary, straining the truth as far as he could.
"He may have been genuinely attracted, you know, as well. Only - he just couldn't help being crooked."
The pathetic middle-aged face brightened a little.
"Yes," she said, "it's nice to think that. Well, there it was. We used to make plans; how we'd go away together to France, or Italy, if this scheme of his came off. It just needed a bit of capital, he said."
The usual approach, thought Calgary, and wondered how many
pathetic women fell for it.
"I don't know what came over me," she said.
"I'd have done anything for him - anything."
"I'm sure you would," said Calgary.
"I dare say," she said bitterly, "I wasn't the only one."
Calgary rose.
"It's been very good of you to tell me all this," he said.
"He's dead now... But I shall never forget him. That monkey-face of his!
The way he looked so sad and then laughed. Oh, he had a way with him. He wasn't all bad, I'm sure he wasn't all bad."
She looked at him wistfully.
But for that Calgary had no answer.
Chapter 21
There had been nothing to tell Philip Durrant that this day was different from any other day.
He had no idea that today would decide his future once and for all.
He woke in good health and spirits. The sun, a pale autumnal sun, shone in at the window. Kirsten brought him a telephone message which increased his good spirits.
"Tina's coming over for tea," he told Mary when she came in with his breakfast.
"Is she? Oh, yes, of course, it's her afternoon off, isn't it?"
Mary sounded preoccupied.
"What's the matter, Polly?"
"Nothing."
She chipped off the top of his egg for him. At once, he felt irritated.
"I can still use my hands, Polly."
"Oh, I thought it would save you trouble."
"How old do you think I am? Six?"
She looked faintly surprised. Then she said abruptly: "Hester's coming home today."
"Is she?" He spoke vaguely, because his mind was full of his plans for dealing with Tina. Then he caught sight of his wife's expression.
"For goodness' sake, Polly, do you think I've got a guilty passion for the girl?"
She turned her head aside.
"You're always saying she's so lovely."
"So she is. If you like beautiful bones and a quality of the unearthly." He added dryly: "But I'm hardly cut out to be a seducer, am I?"
"You might wish you were."
"Don't be ridiculous, Polly. I never knew you had this tendency to jealousy."
"You don't know anything about me."
He started to rebut that, but paused. It came to him, with something of a shock, that perhaps he didn't know very much about Mary.
She went on: "I want you to myself-all to myself. I want there to be nobody in the world but you and me."
"We'd run out of conversation, Polly."
He had spoken lightly, but he felt uncomfortable. The brightness of the morning seemed suddenly dimmed.
She said: "Let's go home, Philip, please