“You’ve me to thank for it, dear,” Sybil said. “Mark wanted to buy you something useful.”

I held the negligée up against the light. “This’ll reveal more than it conceals,” I said. “Are you sure you chose it, Sybil? I think Mark did and he won’t let on. You’re a dark horse, aren’t you, Mark?”

It wasn’t the same as the negligée I’d brought Susan back from London; having been chosen by Sybil, the trimmings were over-fussy and its colour curiously dark and metallic. I had never seen exactly that shade of blue before.

The second whisky had brought the colour back to Mark’s cheeks.

“I didn’t choose it, Joe,” he said.

“I was only joking,” I said. I saw that he was frightened; he wouldn’t have wanted to come to the party, but he wouldn’t, even with the valid excuse of his illness, have dared to put it off.

“It’s just what I wanted,” Susan said. “It’s very sweet of you both.”

“It was Sybil’s idea,” Mark said. He looked at me appealingly. “She just went out and bought it.”

He watched my face as if expecting a blow to which he couldn’t retaliate. He knew that that particular kind of garment had some special significance, he knew that the wrong choice had been made, but he didn’t know why. He was up against the ropes, he wasn’t resisting any more. At some time in the last six weeks he’d cracked. I didn’t know why or how, I only knew that before me was a badly frightened man.

“It was a very good idea, too,” I said. I put my arm around Susan’s waist. “We’ll have a second honeymoon, won’t we, darling?”

She giggled. “Wicked!” she said.

My father-in-law made his way over to us, holding Norah by the hand.

“It’s too late for an old man to be up drinking,” he said. “I must be off as soon as I can drag my wife away.”

“You’re not old,” Norah said. “You’re a good looking man and you know you are.”

He took out his cigar-case, opened it, looked at it longingly, and then closed it again. It was true enough; with his heavy eye­brows and bold features which as yet didn’t sag he was what is called a fine figure of a man.

He smiled at Norah.

“A few more compliments like that, young woman, and I’ll take you home instead of my wife.”

“I hope you enjoyed yourself,” I said. “Do you really have to go?”

“I’m afraid so, Joe.” He turned to Norah. “You must come to our sherry party next Sunday,” he said. “And mind you tell your brother to see me about that job.”

“You’ve not met him yet,” Norah said.