‘Was he doing his only trick? The only thing he could think of to help Missus. Oh, Terry–Terry–nobody shall part us! I’d do anything. Would I, though? One says that–and then when you’re shown the thing, you say, “I didn’t mean anything like that.” Would I do anything?’

She got down on the floor beside the dog.

‘You see, Terry, it’s like this. Nursery governesses can’t have dogs, and companions to elderly ladies can’t have dogs. Only married women can have dogs, Terry–little fluggy expensive dogs that they take shopping with them–and if one preferred an old blind terrier–well, why not?’

She stopped frowning and at that minute there was a double knock from below.

‘The post. I wonder.’

She jumped up and hurried down the stairs, returning with a letter.

‘It might be. If only…’

She tore it open.

Dear Madam,

We have inspected the picture and our opinion is that it is not a genuine Cuyp and that its value is practically nil.

Yours truly,

Sloane & Ryder

Joyce stood holding it. When she spoke, her voice had changed.

‘That’s that,’ she said. ‘The last hope gone. But we won’t be parted. There’s a way–and it won’t be cadging. Terry darling, I’m going out. I’ll be back soon.’

Joyce hurried down the stairs to where the telephone stood in a dark corner. There she asked for a certain number. A man’s voice answered her, its tone changing as he realized her identity.

‘Joyce, my dear girl. Come out and have some dinner and dance tonight.’

‘I can’t,’ said Joyce lightly. ‘Nothing fit to wear.’

And she smiled grimly as she thought of the empty pegs in the flimsy cupboard.

‘How would it be if I came along and saw you now? What’s the address? Good Lord, where’s that? Rather come off your high horse, haven’t you?’

‘Completely.’

‘Well, you’re frank about it. So long.’

Arthur Halliday’s car drew up outside the house about three quarters of an hour later. An awestruck Mrs Barnes conducted him upstairs.

‘My dear girl–what an awful hole. What on earth has got you into this mess?’

‘Pride and a few other unprofitable emotions.’

She spoke lightly enough; her eyes looked at the man opposite her sardonically.

Many people called Halliday handsome. He was a big man with square shoulders, fair, with small, very pale blue eyes and a heavy chin.

He sat down on the rickety chair she indicated.

‘Well,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I should say you’d had your lesson. I say–will that brute bite?’

‘No, no, he’s all right. I’ve trained him to be rather a–a watchdog.’

Halliday was looking her up and down.

‘Going to climb down, Joyce,’ he said softly. ‘Is that it?’

Joyce nodded.