Boyd Carrington said contritely:
'What a damned fool I am. Barbara seemed so bright and gay I forgot all about tiring her. Hope she's not knocked herself out.'
I said mechanically:
'Oh, I expect she'll be all right after a night's rest.'
He went down the stairs. I hesitated and then went along the other wing towards my own room, and Poirot's. The little man would be expecting me. For the first time I was reluctant to go to him. I had so much to occupy my thoughts, and I still had that dull sick feeling at the pit of my stomach.
I went slowly along the corridor.
From inside Allerton's room I heard voices. I don't think I meant consciously to listen, though I stopped for a minute automatically outside his door. Then, suddenly, the door opened and my daughter Judith came out.
She stopped dead when she saw me. I caught her by the arm and hustled her along into my room. I was suddenly intensely angry.
'What do you mean by going to that fellow's room?'
She looked at me steadily. She showed no anger now, only complete coldness. For some few seconds she did not reply.
I shook her by the arm.
'I won't have it, I tell you. You don't know what you are doing.'
She said then in a low, biting voice:
'I think you have a perfectly filthy mind.'
I said:
'I daresay I have. It's a reproach your generation is fond of levelling at mine. We have, at least, certain standards. Understand this, Judith, I forbid you absolutely to have anything more to do with that man.'
She looked at me steadily. Then she said quietly:
'I see. So that's it.'
'Do you deny that you're in love with him?'
'No.'
'But you don't know what he is. You can't know.'
Deliberately, without mincing my language, I repeated to her the story I had heard about Allerton.
'You see,' I said when I had finished. 'That's the kind of foul brute he is.'
She seemed quite unmoved. Her lip curled upwards scornfully.
'I never thought he was a saint, I can assure you.'
'Doesn't this make any difference to you? Judith, you can't be utterly depraved.'
'Call it that if you like.'
'Judith, you haven't – you aren't -'
I could not put my meaning into words. She shook her arm free from my detaining hand.
'Now, listen, Father. I do what I choose. You can't bully me. And it's no good ranting. I shall do exactly as I please with my life, and you can't stop me.'
In another instant she was out of the room.
I found my knees trembling.
I sank down onto a chair. It was worse – much worse than I thought. The child was utterly infatuated. There was no one to whom I could appeal. Her mother, the only person she might have listened to, was dead. It all depended on me.
I do not think that either before or since, I have ever suffered as I suffered then…
IV
Presently I roused myself. I washed and shaved and changed. I went down to dinner. I behaved, I fancy, in quite a normal manner. Nobody seemed to notice anything amiss.
Once or twice I saw Judith flash a curious glance at me. She must have been puzzled, I think, by the way I was able to appear quite like my usual self.
And all the time, underneath, I was growing more and more determined.
All that I needed was courage – courage and brains.
After dinner we went outside, looked up at the sky, commented on the closeness of the atmosphere, prophesied rain – thunder – a storm.
Out of the tail of my eye I saw Judith disappear round the corner of the house. Presently Allerton strolled in the same direction.
I finished what I was saying to Boyd Carrington and wandered that way myself.
Norton, I think, tried to stop me. He took my arm. He tried, I think, to suggest walking up to the rose garden. I took no notice.
He was still with me as I turned the corner of the house.
They were there. I saw Judith's upturned face, saw Allerton's bent down over it – saw how he took her in his arms and the kiss that followed.
Then they broke away quickly. I took a step forward. Almost by main force, Norton hauled me back and round the corner. He said:
'Look here, you can't -'
I interrupted him. I said forcefully:
'I can. And I will.'
'It's no good, my dear fellow. It's all very distressing, but all it comes to is that there's nothing you can do.'
I was silent. He might think that that was so, but I knew better.
Norton went on:
'I know how ineffectual and maddened one feels, but the only thing to do is to admit defeat. Accept it, man!'
I didn't contradict him. I waited, allowing him to talk. Then I went firmly round the corner of the house again.
The two of them had disappeared now, but I had a shrewd idea of where they might be. There was a summerhouse concealed in a grove of lilac trees not far away.
I went towards it. I think Norton was still with me, but I'm not sure.
As I got nearer, I heard voices and stopped. It was Allerton's voice I heard.
'Well, then, my dear girl, that's settled. Don't make any more objections. You go up to town tomorrow. I'll say I'm running over to Ipswich to stay with a pal for a night or two. You wire from London that you can't get back. And who's to know of that charming little dinner at my flat? You won't regret it, I can promise you.'
I felt Norton tugging at me, and suddenly, meekly, I turned. I almost laughed at the sight of his worried, anxious face. I let him drag me back to the house. I pretended to give in because I knew, at that moment, exactly what I was going to do…
I said to him clearly and distinctly:
'Don't worry, old chap. It's all no good – I see that now. You can't control your children's lives. I'm through.'
He was ridiculously relieved.
Shortly afterwards, I told him I was going to bed early. I'd got a bit of a headache, I said.
He had no suspicions at all of what I was going to do.
V
