A moment more he stood looking at her bent head, the small click of her needles audible in the stillness. Well, she had spoken to him, that was something. She, out of all the world, was aware of him and yet did not resent his presence. That was her Mendip breeding, the Hills were full of ghosts, they said.... Ghosts. He was able to smile at the word, often so lightly used by people who thought they were joking.

She had not failed him, even now. He could ask for nothing more. And still the divine unrest was dragging at him, urging him on, on, and the thing he was here for was very close now, he knew, almost under his hand. He opened the door into the pantry and passed through it into the darkened dining-room on his way to the stairs. Glancing back, he saw her rise to close the pantry door softly behind him.

As he reached the dimly lighted hall where the stairs were, a middle-aged woman with fluffy gray hair and innocent blue eyes was coming down the steps. A small fat dog ran on ahead of her and planted itself in the middle of the carpet facing him, in a tornado of hysterical barking.

“Bella, for goodness’ sake, what is it?” cried Aunt Effie.

“Shut up, you little beast,” said Hilary, for this was not a nice dog, not even an intelligent dog, and yet it was possessed of a dog’s fundamental instincts and so undertook to bark at him in his own house because his presence there outraged its common-sense. “Let it go, can’t you? Shut up, I say!” And he snapped his fingers at Bella, who retreated before him, her scruff on end, making rude noises in her throat.

“What did you think you saw?” chided Aunt Effie, gathering Bella into her arms. “There’s nothing there, you foolish girl! See, Auntie’s not afraid!”

From the shelter of Auntie’s protective clasp, Bella gave several more sharp, high-pitched barks, and the study door opposite the stairs opened abruptly.

“Effie, what on earth ails that damned dog?” demanded Father from his threshold.

“I can’t think!” said Aunt Effie apologetically, making ineffectual attempts to soothe Bella. “I was just coming down from Sabrina’s room, and Bella got some sort of fright. Our little invalid has gone off to sleep nicely, Alan, I’m sure she’ll be all right tomorrow.”

“That’s good. But a man can’t hear himself think.” The study door closed again.

What dreadful people, thought Hilary, mounting the stairs. I can’t have this. They must go. I’ll see to that.