Lifting its lid she experimented cautiously with its switches, again playing back the first part of that horrifying scene, then recording and playing back a few bars of a tune that she hummed softly while standing beside it; and she found that it was quite easy to work.

The idea had come to her that if she could get Wash talking again about Teddy's murder within sound range of the machine while it was working, it would record his own guilt and perhaps that of others. If she could succeed in that, with luck she would find a chance to remove the spool of tape and take it with her when they left for London. Even if she had to leave it in the house, once she had got free of him she might still be able to return and retrieve it later. Having adjusted the tape to 'ready' she put the machine under her side of the big bed, so that she had only to reach a hand down to the switch to set it in motion.

All the same, so racked was she by thoughts of the horrors that Wash was planning to carry out that, after lunch that day she made another attempt to escape. It had occurred to her that if she bandaged her eyes that might enable her to pass the invisible barrier. Going to the door at the back of the house that led to the garden, she opened it, lowered the edge of a thick silk scarf that she had draped over her head, and willed herself to walk forward.

It was no good. She could lift each of her feet from the ground, but she positively could not thrust either of them out over the doorstep. Perhaps foolishly, but in desperation, she conceived the idea that since she could not walk out she might be able to crawl out. Removing the scarf she went down on her hands and knees. But her strivings in that position proved equally futile. To add to her distress and also fill her with confusion, while she was still crouching on the mat a voice behind her said:

'You bin lost something, missy?'

Jerking round her head she saw that Jim had come up unheard behind her and was regarding her with a puzzled grin.

'Yes,' she replied, seizing on the excuse to explain being there on her knees; 'a little pearl button off my blouse.'

For some minutes they both hunted for the button, but of course without result. Then she told Jim that it didn't matter, and retired defeated to the sitting-room.

Wash returned at his usual hour, but at once sat down to his desk and almost ignored her until after dinner. Then he told her that he was going out and might not be back until very late, so she should not wait up for him.