He seemed preoccupied, spoke little and never kissed me. Despite the fact that we had separate rooms so that I could have a little privacy, often at night I would hear furtive foosteps come as far as my door and after a few minutes retreat.

Since my window was on the ground floor I often used to fancy that I also heard someone wandering around outside the manor itself. I said as much to my husband, who stared fixedly at me for a few seconds before saying: ‘Nothing to worry about. It must be the nightwatchman.’

One night as we were finishing dinner, at which Hervé had been in unusually and therefore suspiciously good spirits, he asked me: ‘How would you like to spend a couple of hours with me down at the duck blind? There’s a fox who’s started helping himself to my chickens every night. I want to get him.’

I was surprised and hesitated a little before replying: ‘Certainly, my dear, if that’s what you would like.’

I should add that I myself was a keen huntswoman and would go after both wolf and boar with the best of them. So it was not unnatural for him to suggest what he did. But suddenly he started to look very nervous. It was most peculiar. All evening long he was restless. No sooner had he sat down than he got up again and so it went on. He was obviously in a state of very great agitation.

Then at about ten o’clock he asked if I was ready and I rose. He brought me my gun himself and I asked if we were using bullets or shot. At this he looked surprised and said, ‘Oh, shot will do the trick, you can be sure of that!’

Then after a few seconds he turned round and said, again in this peculiar sort of tone: ‘Well I have to hand it to you. You’re a very cool customer indeed!’

I started to laugh.

‘Why on earth do you say that? It doesn’t take much to go and pick off an old fox! What on earth’s got into you, my dear?’

We then set off across the grounds in silence. The full moon cast a yellow sheen on the dark old building and its gleaming slate roof. A patch of light could be seen at the summits of the two towers flanking the house. No sound disturbed the melancholy silence of the clear night air and the heavy, subdued atmosphere in which we walked seemed lifeless. Not a breath of air moved, not a frog croaked, and in the deep gloom which weighed upon the world not even the hoot of an owl could be heard.