‘I think you should know me better than that. I’m a great believer in the direct approach; and I think . . .’ He broke off and drank some sherry and began again. ‘Look. We’re both reasonable, adult people; let’s be honest with ourselves. My culpability over a wedge that was likely to give way at any moment is the least of it; you could have noticed and complained and had it repaired. My real guilt lies elsewhere. First, that I did not notice all the . . . the bother brewing up in your mind. I went with you to Phoebe Rigby’s when you complained about Ethel having been beaten; I dealt with the superficial situation and ignored all the deeper implications. And then, when you’d worked yourself into a state, and were worried past all bearing, and had been knocked down and trodden on and had opened your heart to me, all I could do, God forgive me, was to say, Go say all this at the inquest and you’re sacked! So you went to finish all the marking, and you were collecting your belongings, and so . . . it happened. Whatever you allow me to do for you will never ease my conscience. I shall carry a burden of guilt until the day I die.’

‘But, you see, you were right. I’ve thought about it so much. Look at the importance I put on finding the print of bare feet in the mud! You said somebody had been tempted to bathe. I took no notice. No, Deborah Mayfield couldn’t be wrong! She was going to the inquest and to make a scene. You said if she did, she couldn’t teach in Walwyk any more, so she went to tidy up in her finnicking way. And had an accident. If you need absolution, Canon Thorby, I can give it to you here and now. Throughout, you behaved reasonably and sensibly. I made a clown of myself, and I was hit over the head, as clowns so often are.’

‘You talk about generosity! Nobody ever made a more generous speech. Be as generous in action. Stay here. Let Miss Halstead do all the hard work; she’s young and tough and enthusiastic. You just live here and take care of yourself, and – allow us to take care of you.’

‘There’s nothing I would like better; except, of course, really to get back into harness again. But I do see your point about Miss Halstead. Till Christmas, then.’

‘Till Christmas. Now, give me all the news of Stella Mott-Tyler. I haven’t seen her for a long time. She was the most dazzling beauty, whose engagement to my brother was momentarily expected and somehow never came off. . . .’ Gladly, Miss Mayfield began to talk on this new subject, obeying the injunction of the ancient proverb ‘Say the pleasant, but not the untrue; say the true, but not the unpleasant.’