Tom hesitated. “Hugh, would you mind? I need a few moments alone with my mother.”

“Not at all. You have some splendid grounds; I’ll go and take a walk in them.”

Sophie waited until her husband had left and she heard the front door closing. Then she turned to Tom. The triumph had vanished from his face.

“Darling, this is about the baby. . . .”

“Yes. I can’t marry her—not properly, anyway.”

Tom recounted, as briefly as he could, the substance of his last conversation with Judy.

“That was two days ago,” he finished, “and I haven’t heard from her since.”

Sophie winced; she had imagined it would be bad, but this ... Judy seemed to be almost unhinged, coming unglued.

“Do you think she’s had an abortion?”

He looked ill. “My God, I hope not. But then she wouldn’t get any money.”

“I suppose that’s right.”

“But, mother, there’s something else. Something I didn’t want to discuss with you over the phone.” Tom gestured to the velvet-covered couch. “I think you should sit down. . . .”

“I’m perfectly all right, darling. There’s nothing you can say to me that I can’t handle.” Sophie tried for a reassuring smile. “Not at this point.”

Tom couldn’t hold her gaze. “Maman, he, Stockton, told me about Papa and Judy. And also, the other women.”

Sophie closed her eyes, briefly.

“Tom,” she said, as firmly as she could. “Pete Stockton doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Your father wasn’t like that. He was always faithful, and he . . .”

“I found out.” Tom lifted one hand, to stop her. “Maman . . . I didn’t want to believe him. But I asked around. Everybody . . . everybody said the same thing.”

Sophie’s shoulders slumped; she looked at her son anxiously. He had always worshipped Pierre. . . .

“It was a different time,” she tried, insincerely.

“It’s okay. I don’t want to know.” Tom had a look of pain in his eyes. “It was very wrong of him. But why did you allow it, Mother? And why, why didn’t you tell me . . . about Judy?”

She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder; her heart ached to see him hurt. “My darling,” Sophie said. “I didn’t know . . . about your father. Our marriage was happy.” That was a white lie, but so what? “He kept it from me . . . it might have been a Gallic thing. I was younger, content to stay home with you. He had an office . . . I never suspected.”

“I see.”