I was just going to visit them. «Priscilla staying with Christian? How remarkable,» said Hartbourne. Yes I suppose it was, but it just showed what good friends we all were. In turn I asked Hartbourne about the office. Was that ridiculous committee still sitting? Had Matheson got his promotion yet? Had the new lavatories materialized? Was that comic tea lady still around? Hart– bourne remarked that I seemed «very fit and relaxed.»
«And the poems, sir?»
«Yes.» I had not even realized that Arnold had published any poems. What a skunk I was! I also purchased the London edition of Shakespeare complete in six volumes, to give to Julian in exchange for her Hamlet when the time came, and I went away still smiling.
As I was just turning into the court I saw Rigby, my upstairs neighbour. I stopped him and had begun some cordial conversation about the fine weather when he said, «There's someone waiting outside your door.» I gasped and excused myself and quickly ran. A man, however, was awaiting me. A well-dressed distinguished-looking figure with a soldierly air.
When he saw me Roger started to say, «Look here, before you tell me-«My dear Roger, come in and have some tea. Where's Marigold?»
«I left her in a sort of cafe down there.»
«Well, go and get her at once, go on, I'd love to see her again! I'll be putting the kettle on and putting the tea things out.»
Roger stared and shook his head as if he thought I must be mad, but he went off all the same to fetch Marigold.
Marigold was looking very dressed-up for town with a little blue linen cap and a white linen pinafore dress and a dark-blue silk blouse and a rather expensive-looking red-white-and-blue scarf. She looked a bit like a musical-comedy sailor girl. She was rounder however and had the self-conscious self-satisfied pouting stance of the pregnant woman. Her tanned cheeks were deeply ruddy with health and happiness. She smiled all the time with her eyes and one simply could not help smiling back. She must have left a trail of happiness behind her down the street.
«Marigold, how lovely you look!» I said.
«What's your game?» said Roger.
«Sit down, sit down, please forgive me, it's just that you both look so happy, I can't help myself. Marigold, will you be mother?»
«I suppose this is some sort of sick joke?»
«No, no-« I was serving tea on the mahogany night table. I had put Julian's chair well back out of the way.
«You'll be turning nasty in a minute.»
«Roger, please relax, please just talk to me quietly, let's be gentle and reasonable with each other. I'm very sorry I was so unpleasant to you both down in Bristol. I was upset for Priscilla, I still am, but I don't regard you as wicked, I know how these things happen.»
Roger grimaced at Marigold. She beamed back. «I wanted to put you in the picture,» he said. «And I want you to do something for us, if you will. First of all, here's this.» He put a large gaping carrier bag onto the floor beside my feet.
I peered down and then began to dig into it. Necklaces and things. The enamel picture. The little marble, or whatever it was, statuette. Two silver cups, other oddments. «That's good of you, Priscilla will be so pleased. What about the mink?»
«I was coming to that,» said Roger. «I'm afraid I sold the mink. I'd already sold it when I saw you last. I agreed with Priscilla it was a sort of investment. I'll let her have half the proceeds. In due course.»
«She mustn't worry,» said Marigold. She had advanced her smartly shod blue patent-leather foot up against Roger's shoe. She kept moving her arm so that her sleeve lightly and rhythmically brushed his.
