' 'Are you a member of Boodle's?''
'I? No-not my sort of interest. But I have several acquaintances who are. Society is very small, Inspector. And my father lived within a mile of Paris Road.''
'But you have not lived in your father's house for many years now.'
All the ease and humor died out of Hamilton's face, as if someone had opened a door and let in a blast of winter. 'No.' His voice was tight, caught in his throat. 'My father married again after my mother's death. I was an adult; it was perfectly natural and suitable that I should find my own premises. But that can have nothing to do with James Carfax. I referred to it only to show you that in Society one cannot help knowing something about other people if they move in similar circles.'
Pitt regretted having inadvertently caused him pain. He liked the man, and it had been no part of his search to touch an old wound that could hardly have any bearing either on Lockwood Hamilton's death or Etheridge's.
'Of course,' he agreed, leaving the apology tacit in his voice; the less the wound was touched the sooner the thin skin would heal over it again.' 'Did you mention other women as a supposition from his general conduct, or have you some specific knowledge?'
Hamilton breathed out, relaxing again. 'No, Inspector. I regret my speculations were based solely on his reputation. It is possible I did him an injustice. I don't like the man; please consider anything I say with that in view.'
'You knew Carfax's wife before her marriage?'
'Oh yes.'
'Did you like Helen Etheridge, Mr. Hamilton?' Pitt asked it so candidly that it was robbed of implication.
'Yes,' Hamilton said equally frankly. 'But not roman-100
tically, you understand. I always felt her very young. There was something childlike in her; she was like a girl who keeps her dreams.' He smiled ruefully. 'As if she had only just put her hair up and donned her first long skirts!'
Pitt pictured Mrs. Carfax, her vulnerability and her obvious adoration for her husband, and silently agreed.
'Unfortunately we all have to grow up,' Hamilton added with a small smile. 'Perhaps women less so, on the whole.' Then he bit his lips as if he wished to take the words back. 'Some women, anyway. I fear I cannot help you very much, Inspector. I don't care for James Carfax very much, but I would swear he has no connection with anarchists, or any other political conspiracy, nor is he a madman. He is exactly what he appears, a rather selfish young man who is bored, drinks a little more than is wise, and likes to show off but has not the financial means to keep up with his friends without using his wife's money, which galls him, but not enough to prevent him from doing it.'
' 'And if his wife ceased to provide the money?' Pitt asked.
'She won't. At least,' he corrected himself, 'I don't believe she will, unless he becomes too rash hi his behavior and hurts her too much. But I don't think he's fool enough format'
'No, I don't suppose so. Thank you, Mr. Hamilton. I appreciate your candor; it has probably saved me hours of delicate questions.' Pitt stood up. It was late and growing cold outside, and he wanted to go home. Tomorrow would come soon enough, and he had achieved little.
Barclay Hamilton stood up also. He was taller than Pitt had remembered, and leaner. He looked embarrassed.
'I apologize, Inspector Pitt. I have spoken more frankly man I had a right to. It is the end of the day, and I am tired. I was less than discreet, and possibly uncharitable towards Carfax. I should not have spoken my thoughts.'
Pitt smiled broadly. 'You did warn me that you did not like him.'
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Hamilton relaxed, a sudden lightness in his face evoking the young man he must have been eighteen years ago, when Amethyst Royce had married his father. 'I hope we meet again, Inspector, in happier circumstances.' And instead of calling the
