‘Nothing’s the matter,’ said Dr Horton, cheerfully. ‘I just want to show the boys a little experiment I’m going to make with a cup of tea.’

He was looking at her very closely and he saw the expression of fear, of terror. Mr Satterthwaite saw the entire change of countenance.

‘Would you like to come with me, Satterthwaite? Just a little experiment, you know. A matter of testing porcelain and different qualities in it nowadays. A very interesting discovery was made lately.’

Chatting, he walked along the grass. Mr Satterthwaite followed him and the two young men, chatting to each other, followed him.

‘What’s the Doc up to now, Roly?’ said Timothy.

‘I don’t know,’ said Roland. ‘He seems to have got some very extraordinary ideas. Oh well, we shall hear about it later, I expect. Let’s go and get our bikes.’

Beryl Gilliatt turned abruptly. She retraced her steps rapidly up the lawn towards the house. Tom Addison called to her:

‘Anything the matter, Beryl?’

‘Something I’d forgotten,’ said Beryl Gilliatt. ‘That’s all.’

Tom Addison looked inquiringly towards Simon Gilliatt.

‘Anything wrong with your wife?’ he said.

‘Beryl? Oh no, not that I know of. I expect it’s some little thing or other that she’s forgotten. Nothing I can do for you, Beryl?’ he called.

‘No. No, I’ll be back later.’ She turned her head half sideways, looking at the old man lying back in the chair. She spoke suddenly and vehemently. ‘You silly old fool. You’ve got the wrong shoes on again today. They don’t match. Do you know you’ve got one shoe that’s red and one shoe that’s green?’

‘Ah, done it again, have I?’ said Tom Addison. ‘They look exactly the same colour to me, you know. It’s odd, isn’t it, but there it is.’

She went past him, her steps quickening.

Presently Mr Satterthwaite and Dr Horton reached the gate that led out into the roadway. They heard a motor bicycle speeding along.

‘She’s gone,’ said Dr Horton. ‘She’s run for it. We ought to have stopped her, I suppose. Do you think she’ll come back?’

‘No,’ said Mr Satterthwaite, ‘I don’t think she’ll come back. Perhaps,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘it’s best left that way.’

‘You mean?’

‘It’s an old house,’ said Mr Satterthwaite. ‘And old family. A good family. A lot of good people in it. One doesn’t want trouble, scandal, everything brought upon it. Best to let her go, I think.’

‘Tom Addison never liked her,’ said Dr Horton. ‘Never. He was always polite and kind but he didn’t like her.’

‘And there’s the boy to think of,’ said Mr Satterthwaite.

‘The boy. You mean?’

‘The other boy. Roland. This way he needn’t know about what his mother was trying to do.’

‘Why did she do it? Why on earth did she do it?’