“There was, of course, no child nor could there be, I gather. It was not that Agnes deliberately tricked me. She was simply a liar. It was hard for her to tell truth from lie since she lived in an opium fog most of the time. I tried to stop her habit but she was extremely cunning and finally I became disaffected. She loved scenes. I abhorred them. She was never happier than when berating me in front of my friends. Ah, me! I enjoyed myself in a very wild way with friends of similar inclinations. I slept most of the day then and roistered at night so there is not much changed now I am come back. What a short night I shall have in the summer! If I am still on this earth.”

Alice suddenly thought of London, of becoming a society lady and found that the idea terrified her.

“When I go to London,” she said timidly, “will you be with me?”

“Of course not,” he said stretching out a booted foot to the dying fire. “I should be very much in the way. Your main motive is to become married, remember?”

“But we are so comfortable here,” yawned Alice sleepily.

“It is comfortable compared to what you have known. But it would not always be so. You need the company of young people like yourself. How old are you?”

“Nineteen, I reckon.”

“I was thirty-two years of age when I died.”

“That’s not old,” said Alice.

He looked at her oddly and then said gently, “We would not be suited; we would never have been suited, you know.”

“Because I’m a servant?”

“No. Not that,” he said lightly. “I never… er… had amorous designs on virgins.”

“Oh!” Alice felt hurt and fell into a sulky silence, staring at the red embers.

The red glow faded and receded. She was dreamily conscious of being picked up and carried to bed and felt she should protest. And the next thing she knew, the midday sun was streaming in through the diamond panes of the window. There was bread and cheese on a silver tray on the table and a jug of milk.

There were also several back numbers of La Belle Assemblée. Then Alice realized she could not remember being put to bed.

She was relieved to find she was still fully dressed even to her shoes. The unaccustomed footwear irked her and she kicked her shoes off.

On the marble washstand were two cans of water and a bar of soap. She wondered uneasily what to do with the slops and after some internal debate, tugged open the window. It led out onto a small ledge behind a high parapet topped with obelisks which perhaps explained why the room had remained hidden.