mattered. 'May I have the tea? A man called Maurice Jerome, really rather an unpleasant man, very cold and very prim. He's clever and he resents being patronized by richer people with fewer brains. Thank you.' She took the tea; the cup was very light and painted with flowers in
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blue and gold. 'The younger son, the one still alive, has said that Jerome made improper advances to him. And so has the son of a friend.'
'Oh, dear!' Emily looked as though her tea had suddenly turned sour in her mouth. 'How sordid. Do you want the toast? The apricot preserve is very good. How very nasty indeed. I really don't understand that sort of thing. In fact, I didn't even know much about it until I overheard one of George's friends say something quite horrible.' She pushed the butter across. 'So what is the mystery? You said something rather extreme to Gwenneth about great injustice. The scandal is obvious, but unless this wretched man is going to get away with it, where is the injustice? He has been tried and he will be hanged. And so he should be.''
Charlotte avoided the argument of whether anyone should be hanged or not. That would have to wait for another time. She took the butter.
'But it hasn't really been proved that he was guilty!' she said urgently. 'There are all sorts of other possibilities that haven't been proved or disproved yet!'
Emily squinted at her suspiciously.
'Such as what? It all seems very plain to me!'
Charlotte reached for the apricot preserve.
'Of course it's plain!' she snapped. 'That doesn't mean it's true! Arthur Wayboume may not have been as innocent as everyone is supposing. Perhaps he had a relationship with the other two boys, and they were frightened, or revolted, and they killed him.'
'Is there any reason whatsoever to suppose that?' Emily was entirely unconvinced, and Charlotte had the feding she was rapidly losing her attention.
'I haven't told you everything,' she said, trying a different angle.
'You haven't told me anything!' Emily said wa'spishly. 'Not anything worth thinking about.'
'I went to the trial,' Charlotte continued. 'I heard all the evidence and saw the people.'
'You didn't say that!' Emily exclaimed, her cheeks color-176
ing with frustration. She sat very upright in the Chippendale chair. 'I've never been to a trial!'
'Of course you haven't,' Charlotte agreed with a faint flicker of spite. 'Ladies of quality don't!'
Emily's eyes narrowed in a look of warning. This was suddenly far too exciting a subject to give way to sisterly envy.
Charlotte accepted the hint. After all, she wanted Emily's cooperation; indeed, it was what she had come for. Rapidly she told her everything she could remember, describing the courtroom, the sewerman who had found the body, Anstey Way-bourne, the two boys, Esmond Vanderley and the other man who gave evidence on Jerome's previous character, Albie Fro-bisher, and Abigail Winters. She did her best to recount accurately what they had said. She also tried as clearly as she could to explain her own mixture of feelings about Jerome himself, and about Eugenie. She ended by expounding her theories regarding Godfrey, Titus, and Arthur Waybourne.
Emily stared at her for a long time before replying. Her tea was cold; she ignored it.
'I see,' she said at last. 'At least I see that we don't see-not nearly enough to be sure. I didn't know there were boys who made their living like that. It's appalling-poor creatures. Although I have discovered that there are a great many more revolting things in high society than I ever used to imagine living at home in Cater Street. We were incredibly innocent then. I find some of George's friends quite repellent. In fact, I have asked him why on earth he puts up with them! He simply says he has known them all his life, and when you have grown used to a person, you tend to overlook the unpleasant things they do. They sort of creep into your knowledge one by one, and you don't ever realize just how horrible they are, because you half see the person the way you remember them and don't bother to look at
