That seemed such a pathetic thing to say that, though I’d never done it before, I put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a kiss. She smiled tremulously. “And on top of all this I’m having a dinner party here for him on Saturday. His publisher and a lot of people connected with his wretched book. Well, no, I’m sure it’s a marvelous book, I shouldn’t have said that. But I just don’t feel up to entertaining hordes of people. Not her, though, thank God, there are limits.”

I couldn’t imagine what she’d meant by saying that I should be sorry, and that it was unintentional on my part. What was? What had I done? I put it down to simple hysteria. In any case, I didn’t want to think about it. I’m afraid I found it deeply distasteful, the very idea of tortoise-necked Max with his bulging cheeks and fluffy tufts of white hair having sex with anyone. I thought of Silver and me and how strong and beautiful we were and I shuddered. Twenty-year-olds think like that, always have, I expect, and always will.

It amused me and made me a bit cross too that Selina had driven poor Mabel out of her own home. I called to her out of my bedroom window and whistled the special whistle I had for her and she soon came. In a way I couldn’t explain why Selina’s attitude toward her worried me, so when the time came for me to go up to Silver’s I took her with me. I carried her up the four flights and into Silver’s flat. It was rather a chilly day and no one was out on the roofs—Wim may have been but his whereabouts were seldom known—so I closed the windows, not wanting to run the risk of Mabel escaping that way.

Jonny was at work, Liv asleep on the sofa, as she so often was. Mabel wandered about restlessly, marking all the furniture as if she hadn’t done it before. Then a terrible thing happened. The kitchen door being ajar, she pushed her nose round it, went into the kitchen and caught a mouse.