Morning was well-established when Giovanni and Kenneth Dorne with Lady Braceley, maintained by lateral pressure and support from the armpits and not so much propelled as lifted, crossed the foyer of the hotel and entered the lift.

Cleaning women with black-currant eyes exchanged looks with the night porter, who was preparing to go off duty. The man with the vacuum cleaner watched their progress to the lift and then joined them and, with back turned and averted glance, took them up to their floor. A chambermaid, seeing their approach, opened the door into their suite and hurried away.

They put Lady Braceley into a chair.

Kenneth fumbled in his pocket for his note-case. ‘You’re sure, aren’t you?’ he said to Giovanni. ‘It’s going to be OK. I mean—you know—?’

Giovanni, indigo about the jaws but otherwise impeccable, said, ‘Perfectly, Signore. I am fully in Signor Mailer’s confidence.’

‘Yes—but—you know? This thing about—well, about the police—did he—?’

‘I will be pleased to negotiate.’

They both looked at Lady Braceley.

‘We’ll have to wait,’ Kenneth said. ‘It’ll be all right, I promise. Later. Say this afternoon when she’s—you know?’

‘As soon as possible. A delay is not desirable.’

‘All right. All right. I know. But—see for yourself, Giovanni.’

‘Signore, I have already perceived.’

‘Yes. Well, in the meantime—here.’

‘You are very kind,’ Giovanni said, taking his dirt-money with infinite aplomb. ‘I will return at two-thirty, Signore. Arrivederci.’

Left alone, Kenneth bit his knuckles, looked at his aunt and caught back his breath in a dry sob. Then he rang for her maid and went to his room.

VI

‘You have enjoyed yourself, my beloved?’ the Baron had asked the Baroness in their own language as they prepared for bed.

‘Very much. The tall Englishman is a good dancer and clearly a person of some distinction. He what the English call "funned" me about not going on to the other place. To take care of him, he said. He is a flirt.’

‘I am jealous.’

‘Good-good. Almost, I wish we had decided to go.’

‘Now, you tease me, my love. It is quite unthinkable that I should take you to one of these places, Mathilde. You would be insulted. I wonder that this person, Allen, suggested it.’

‘He was “funning” me, my darling.’

‘He had no business to do so on that subject.’

The Baroness turned her back to her husband, who deftly unzipped her dress and awarded her a neat little slap.

‘The relief,’ she said, ‘is so enormous, Gerrit. I dare not believe in it. Tell me, fully, what happened.’

‘In effect—nothing. As you know I hoped to negotiate. I kept the appointment. He did not. It is very strange.’

‘And, for the moment at least, we are free of our anxiety?’

‘I think we are free altogether, darling. I think we shall not see this Mailer again.’

‘No?’