Diana shook her head almost impatiently and said, ‘No, she won’t, and I have to be prepared for it.’

She spoke in the same firm tone she had used when she said, ‘I have to know how it is for her.’ She was talking to herself as David had to himself, making drinks at the beginning of the evening. A new understanding confronted David. He and Diana would not lose Constance. She would lose them. For her David was no great loss, and he must see that as a mercy. But how could she live, not knowing Diana?

‘Mike’s friend Richard has been here again,’ Diana said. ‘He has AIDS.’

‘AIDS?’ David repeated.

‘Mike’s not involved,’ Diana said quickly. ‘He’s in no danger himself, I mean. But Richard’s parents have turned him out, and Mike asked me if I could help. I think I’ve headed him in helpful directions if he’ll take them, but my basic advice to him I find very hard to take myself. We all have to live in the present.’

‘With the exception of Constance,’ David said, who hadn’t been able to make the shift in concern.

‘Constance, too, as much as she’s able, and in a way, you know, she does it better than the rest of us.’

‘Are you sure Mike’s in no danger?’ David asked then, finally hearing what Diana had said about Richard.

‘They’re simply friends,’ Diana said. ‘Mike’s a very good friend.’

‘I’m so glad they had you to come to,’ David said.

‘I don’t feel much like a doctor after all this time,’ Diana said. ‘I don’t keep up except in a very general way.’

‘But you could. …’ and David stopped himself, about to blunder into territory that offended her.

‘But I didn’t,’ Diana said. ‘Would you like a nightcap?’

He went to the kitchen and brought back drinks for them both. They sat together without speaking for some time, watching the dying fire.

‘I wouldn’t say, even to that dying boy,’ Diana finally said, breaking the silence with a will, ‘that, yes, I’m gay or queer or homosexual or lesbian. I am Diana Crown, a proud woman nearly turned to stone, but for Constance.’

David wanted to protest, but he didn’t, for she was talking more to herself than to him. He was there to overhear, nothing more. She did not go on aloud, and in time David wondered if she was even aware that he was still there. It did not matter. He sat in his own chair, exhausted and peaceful.

‘You haven’t told me about Mary,’ Diana said finally.

‘She’s come home,’ David said.

He got up then.

‘Do come before next Wednesday if you can manage it,’ she said. ‘You’re a great comfort to me, D.’