“You might as well ask me what happened on the road to Damascus. I don’t know. At first I thought I was dying. And then I feared for Harry. Dr. Fielding couldn’t find anything wrong, and I thought he was lying.”

Rutledge, judging him, could believe that, as far as it went.

Teller, seeing that Rutledge wasn’t fully convinced, shrugged. “I know. I have much to live for. A fine wife, a fine son, a home I love. I have no worries about money or my health. What right have I to feel the weight of depression? But I don’t think depression is measured by what you have—”

He broke off with a warning glance to Rutledge as the door opened. But it wasn’t Jenny with their tea; it was Edwin Teller and his wife who came into the room and stopped stock-still, staring at the apparition before them.

“My God,” Edwin said, moving as if to embrace his brother. And then he stopped. “Where the hell have you been? Do you know what you have put Jenny—all of us—through? If Father were alive now, he’d horsewhip you!”

Amy put her hand on her husband’s arm. “No, don’t, Edwin. Please—”

Walter said, “I have no excuses. No explanation. I’m sorry. More sorry than you know. More sorry than you will ever know.”

Peter Teller and his wife came in just then, and Peter, recognizing his brother, glowered at him. “I hope you can explain yourself,” he said through clenched teeth. “I hope there was a damned good reason for what you’ve done.”

Susannah, her face flushed, said, “Where’s Jenny?”

“I asked her to bring me a little tea. I couldn’t bear her relief any longer.”

“Someone should telephone Leticia. And Mary,” Susannah said. And then in a burst of anger she said accusingly, “It’s been a terrible week. We’ve driven miles, we’ve tried to console Jenny, we’ve tried to think where you might be, and then your clothes were found by the river—” She turned away, brushing angrily at the tears in her eyes.

Rutledge recalled that Peter had been drinking heavily. It explained, a little, his wife’s distress.

“I know. I say again, I’m sorry. It’s not enough, but it’s all I can do.”

The door opened, and Jenny held it wide for one of the sisters to bring in Matron’s tea tray. She carried it to the table, and then turned to Walter.

“We’re very happy to see you’ve returned safely,” she said. “And Matron would appreciate a word, when you’ve seen the doctors.”

Teller looked overwhelmed, but he said, “Yes, of course.”

Jenny was saying triumphantly to his brothers, “I told you he wasn’t dead. But when they brought him in to me, I couldn’t believe my eyes.” She laughed, trying hard to ignore the tension in the room.