“What did you do with my old clothes?” asked Alice after she had managed to control a feeling of hurt which had threatened to make her cry again.

“I put them at the edge of the cliffs along with a suicide note written in an illiterate scrawl. I remember you told me they were not aware of your education. And so ends the life of Alice, scullery maid.”

“What if you disappear?” said Alice anxiously. “What would I do?”

“I think I can manifest myself for another week,” he said, laughing. “In any case, you have the jewels.”

“But you would not be there,” said Alice softly.

He put down his glass with an impatient click and studied her for a while. She cast her eyes down and looked at her plate.

“You are halfway to fancying yourself in love, my sweeting,” he said. “It will not do. This is unreality. I am unreal. Put me from thy mind, my child. Concentrate your whole being on securing a future for yourself, a home for yourself, a handsome husband and handsome children.

“This unnatural proximity of ours has played tricks with your brain. You are tired and overwrought. You did very well this evening. And I was proud of you. Come! Smile, my Alice. Tomorrow in the clear light of day you will see things differently.”

Alice finished her meal as best she could. She could sense that, this evening, he was anxious to be gone. She racked her brains for some topic of conversation to detain him, but could think of none.

At last he stacked the dirty dishes and glasses neatly on the tray as if he had been a servant all his life instead of the master of many.

“Goodnight, Alice,” he said formally. “Until tomorrow.”

She half raised her hand to try to detain him, but he had already vanished noiselessly through the wall.

“One week,” thought Alice. “At least I have one more week.”

Alice spent the next day cleaning and tidying the secret room. She felt sad. She felt as if she were leaving the only home she had ever known. Her clothes had gone from the wardrobe, the trunks from the floor. To where he had spirited them she did not know. Surely they could not set about renting a house immediately.

At times poor Alice wondered whether this extra week of his company were a good thing after all. Would it not be better to make a clean break? But surely he could not plan to desert her forever.

Would he not miss her, just a little? And what would he do after he returned? Philander with the houseguests?

She busied herself with her gloomy thoughts and small chores until the shadows lengthened across the floor. He would expect her to be ready. She was wearing a warm quilted gown and an ermine-lined pelisse and swansdown muff lay ready on the bed.