She stared at him. "Nothing! But they knew who I was, that I'm your wife. Aren't policemen's wives supposed to behave rather better than that?"

He gazed at her, wide-eyed, then he started to laugh. It was a deep, full-throated howl of incredulous hilarity.

"It's not that funny!" she said indignantly.

But he laughed even more, and there was nothing she could do but lose her temper or join him. She chose the latter. They stood together in front of the fire, the tears running down their cheeks.

"I think you had better forget politics," he said at last. "You aren't any good at it."

"I'm not usually as bad as this!" she defended herself, but without conviction. There was still defeat in her eyes.

"Yes, you are," he replied, suddenly gentle again. "I think you should go back to nursing. At that you are superb."

"No one will have me," she told him ruefully.

"Yes, they will. In Portpool Lane, every one of them loves you-even Squeaky Robinson, in his own way."

There was disbelief in her face, hesitation, then hope. "But you said-"

"I know. I was wrong." He did not add anything because she threw her arms around his neck and clung to him, kissing him long and hard.

TEN

TEN

In spite of her personal joy, Hester woke in the morning with the utmost remorse over Rose. She packed up Rose's borrowed clothes and returned them. Her army experiences had taught her something of the suffering incurred after overindulgence in alcohol, and she knew how to minister to those afflicted. She spent several hours doing what she could for Rose, to both her and her husband's intense gratitude, then she wished them every possible happiness and took her leave.

She arrived at the Argyll house shortly after noon.

"Good morning, Mrs. Monk," Jenny said with some uncertainty when Hester was shown into the withdrawing room.

"Good morning, Mrs. Argyll," Hester replied with a slight smile. "I thought that after last night's disaster you would naturally be concerned for Mrs. Applegate. I know that you and she were friends." A fraction of a second later she realized she had already put it in the past. "And I owe you something of an apology. Had I been aware of her susceptibility, I might have been able to prevent it. There are some people to whom even a drop of alcohol is a kind of poison."

Jenny cleared her throat. She was obviously profoundly uncomfortable. She was still wearing black, of course, but relieved at the neck and wrists with lavender. She was not handsome, as Monk had said Mary was, but the possibilities of life, passion, and laughter were still there in her face, masked by discretion.

"I suppose it must be." She sounded acutely uncertain, but she could hardly ask Hester to leave, unless she was prepared to be inexplicably rude. "It is something of which I have no knowledge."