‘Are you going anywhere, Mary?’

‘Are you joking?’ There was a flash of the old pertness. ‘There’s no place to go round here.’

‘What are you going to do then?’

‘William’s taking me out in the boat.’

‘When?’

‘At three.’

‘Who is William?’

‘William Metcalfe. The manservant.’

‘Is he fond of you?’

‘Yes.’ She smiled.

‘Are you fond of him?’

‘He’s all right.’ But the answer was given flatly.

‘Do you think he’ll ask you to marry him?’

‘He has.’

‘And will you?’

‘No.’ There was scorn in her voice.

‘Why won’t you marry William?’

‘I can’t tell you that.’ Firmly.

‘All right, Mary. Go forward to three o’clock. Where are you now?’

‘I’m at the boathouse.’

‘All right. Go forward to half past three. Where are you now?’

‘Out in the boat.’

‘What kind of boat is it?’

‘A sailing-boat.’

‘Is it a big one?’

‘No. Not very. Just a rowing-boat with sails.’

‘Is William with you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where is the boat now?’

‘Round past Crag Point.’

‘Can you see the house from there?’

‘No. It’s beyond the Crag.’

‘Are you enjoying the sail, Mary?’

‘It’s all right.’

‘Does William seem happy?’

‘He’s quiet. He asked me to marry him again. Said it was my last chance. And I said no.’

Bourne opened his mouth then closed it again. The woman was frowning as if in puzzlement. Her head moved.

‘What is happening, Mary? You can tell me. You can speak about it!’

‘He’s saying I’m a fool!’ There were overtones of agitation and surprise. ‘He’s standing up. Holding on to the mast. He’s rocking the boat. Oh God, it’s going over. Help! I’m in the water.’ Ann’s body twitched and jerked on the couch, her hands unclasped and her arms began to flail. ‘I’m drowning!’ She gasped and choked. ‘I’m up again. Waves. William’s beside me.’ She screamed, gasped. ‘Ah-h-h, he’s pushing me under.’ She struggled wildly, choked, gagged, her face purple. Meredith restrained her convulsively moving arms while Bourne spoke urgently and insistently to her. The others in the room sat rigid with shock.

‘You’re safe, you are not drowning, you are going into sleep, you are coming forward in time, you are no longer concerned with Mary Rolfe, you are coming forward to the time when you are the person named Ann Margaret Parish. You are becoming Ann Parish. You are Ann Parish again. Rest peacefully. You are relaxed, content and happy. You are perfectly safe.’

The young woman stopped screaming, gradually quietened to become as composed as she had been before she began her frenzied struggles in the water to escape drowning. Paul felt shattered: it had been all too realistic. He glanced at Carol, realized she had been equally shocked. The others showed various degrees of startlement.