Thus she was not unduly perturbed when William requested after breakfast one morning that she come into his study. It was her surmise that he had now come to a decision as to their future residential arrangements. Directly he went to sit in an upright oak carver before the bookcase, and bade her to take her seat on one of the upholstered chairs, to either side of the fireplace, on the other side of the room. This was as he sat when he interviewed tenants; but perhaps it had become his habit to adopt such a formal seating arrangement, with himself at some distance from his interlocutor.

William spoke first, as she had expected him to.

‘You will be aware, I know, that we have not been such good companions to each other as once we were. For my part in this I most humbly beg your pardon. I have not meant to make you unhappy.’

Alice was surprised by this, and moved. ‘You remain as ever in my heart,’ she said. ‘If I was not at first sensible to the quieter life you have preferred since the war, I hope I have since made amends.’

William gave no answer.

‘It has never been my desire that we should be estranged,’ Alice eventually said.

Again he said nothing. The moments passed, seeming to hang in the bright morning air like motes of pollen-dust. At length William spoke again.

‘I had hoped that we could continue as we have been, but events have overtaken me. Be assured that I shall not leave you short; you and the boy will be amply provided for.’

Alice could feel her face grow cold from dread.

‘But William, what can you mean? Surely you are not planning to leave us?’

‘It is an eventuality to which I have given consideration, but it is impossible that it should be I who quits you. As you know, the responsibility of the estate – all the farms – now rests solely with me; there is my mother to be cared for and my sister besides.’

‘Well, and we will do so together,’ said Alice, though her confidence was faltering.

‘I fear that the time for us is gone. Divorce is the only possible solution to the present … the present difficulty.’

At this Alice gave a little cry of disbelief.

‘But what can your reason be? Such a course would be scandalous for us all! You cannot surely wish to see our names all over the papers, the stuff of gossip and slander. I begin to fear that you have taken leave of your senses.’

‘While my father was living there could have been no question of such an action. His good name was more important to me than my own happiness, but such considerations … such an impediment no longer obtains.’

Alice did not speak. She had no words to say.