'It felled to produce any of the results she desired,' he answered.
'Surely it was bound to? No sane person could imagine she might succeed?'
'Who is it you believe threatened your father, Mrs. Carfax?'
'A woman-one of the women who want suffrage. He was opposed to it, you know.'
'No, I didn't know. But surely he is with the majority in Parliament, and in the country. Quite a considerable majority.'
'Of course, Mr. Pitt.' The nervous tension in her was so great she was shaking. The color drained out of her skin and her voice was a whisper. 'Mr. Pitt, I do not say they are sane. A person who would do ... what was done to my father, and to Sir Lockwood Hamilton, cannot be explained by any normal means.'
'No, Mrs. Carfax. I am sorry to have pressed you.' He was apologizing for being there to witness her distress, not for asking her to explain, but it did not matter if she did not understand that. All that mattered was that she should know of his sympathy for her.
'I appreciate your-your tact, Mr. Pitt. Now I must not take more of your time. Thank you for coming so quickly.'
Pitt left in deep thought. Was it really conceivable that some woman, passionate for electoral justice, should cut the throat of two members of Parliament, simply because they were among the vast majority who felt her cause was untimely, or even ridiculous? It did not seem sane. But then as Helen Carfax had pointed out, such an act was not that of a person whose mind worked as others did, whatever the reason for it.
He still found his own thoughts returning to James Carfax, whose motive was far easier to understand, and to believe. He wanted to know more about him, see something besides the rather spoiled and shallow young man seen by Barclay Hamilton, or the shocked and rattled husband he had seen himself.
* * *
109
Accordingly at a little after four o'clock he presented his card to the parlormaid at Lady Mary Carfax's Kensington residence and requested half an hour of her time, if she would be so gracious. It was in the matter of the recent violent death of Vyvyan Etheridge, M.P.
She sent back a message that he should wait in the morning room, and when it was convenient she would see him.
She chose to make it three quarters of an hour, in order that he should not give himself airs or imagine she had nothing better to do. Then she yielded to her curiosity and sent the maid to fetch him to the withdrawing room, where she sat in a bright pink overstuffed chair. It and three similar chairs and a chaise longue almost filled the room. There were one or two agreeable paintings on the walls and many photographs and portraits of family groups. At least a dozen of them showed the development of James Carfax from an infant to the thoughtful, rather self-conscious young man pictured with his arm round his mother's shoulders.
Lady Mary Carfax was not a tall woman, but she sat with imperious rigidity, and of course she did not rise when he came in. She had a coronet of gray hair, naturally curling. She must have been a beauty in her youth; her skin was still fine and her nose straight and delicate, but there was a coldness in her blue-gray eyes and a slack line now to her jaw and throat. Her mouth might have been charming in her early years; now there was a tightness in it that betrayed an inner chill, a ruthlessness that for Pitt dominated her face.
She did not care to crane her neck backwards, so reluctantly she gave him permission to sit.
' 'Thank you, Lady Mary,'' he said, and sat down opposite her.
'Well, what can I do for you? I know a certain amount about politics, but I doubt I can tell you anything of anarchists or other revolutionaries and malcontents.'
'Your daughter-in-law, Mrs. James Carfax, believes that 110
her father was threatened by a woman who was passionate about obtaining the right to vote for Parliament.'
Lady Mary's slightly downward sloping eyebrows shot upward. 'Good gracious! I knew of course
