The Duchess stared at her.
‘I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,’ she declared.
Mr Satterthwaite was still examining the sketches. He realized, as the Duchess could not, the perfection of technique behind them. He was startled and delighted. He looked up at the girl.
‘Will you sell me one of these, Miss Carlton Smith?’ he asked.
‘You can have any one you like for five guineas,’ said the girl indifferently.
Mr Satterthwaite hesitated a minute or two and then he selected a study of prickly pear and aloe. In the foreground was a vivid blur of yellow mimosa, the scarlet of the aloe flower danced in and out of the picture, and inexorable, mathematically underlying the whole, was the oblong pattern of the prickly pear and the sword motif of the aloe.
He made a little bow to the girl.
‘I am very happy to have secured this, and I think I have made a bargain. Some day, Miss Carlton Smith, I shall be able to sell this sketch at a very good profit—if I want to!’
The girl leant forward to see which one he had taken. He saw a new look come into her eyes. For the first time she was really aware of his existence, and there was respect in the quick glance she gave him.
‘You have chosen the best,’ she said. ‘I—I am glad.’
‘Well, I suppose you know what you’re doing,’ said the Duchess. ‘And I daresay you’re right. I’ve heard that you are quite a connoisseur. But you can’t tell me that all this new stuff is art, because it isn’t. Still, we needn’t go into that. Now I’m only going to be here a few days and I want to see something of the island. You’ve got a car, I suppose, Naomi?’
The girl nodded.
‘Excellent,’ said the Duchess. ‘We’ll make a trip somewhere tomorrow.’
‘It’s only a two-seater.’
‘Nonsense, there’s a dickey, I suppose, that will do for Mr Satterthwaite?’
A shuddering sigh went through Mr Satterthwaite. He had observed the Corsican roads that morning. Naomi was regarding him thoughtfully.
‘I’m afraid my car would be no good to you,’ she said. ‘It’s a terribly battered old bus. I bought it second-hand for a mere song. It will just get me up the hills—with coaxing. But I can’t take passengers. There’s quite a good garage, though, in the town. You can hire a car there.’
‘Hire a car?’ said the Duchess, scandalized. ‘What an idea. Who’s that nice-looking man who drove up in a four-seater just before lunch?’
‘I expect you mean Mr Tomlinson. He’s a retired Indian judge.’
He seems quite a decent sort of man. I shall talk to him.’
That evening, on coming down to dinner, Mr Satterthwaite found the Duchess resplendent in black velvet and diamonds, talking earnestly to the owner of the four-seater car. She beckoned authoritatively.
‘Come here, Mr Satterthwaite, Mr Tomlinson is telling me the most interesting things, and what do you think?—he is actually going to take us on an expedition tomorrow in his car.’
Mr Satterthwaite regarded her with admiration.
‘We must go in to dinner,’ said the Duchess. ‘Do come and sit at our table, Mr Tomlinson, and then you can go on with what you were telling me.’
‘Quite a decent sort of man,’ the Duchess pronounced later.
‘With quite a decent sort of car,’ retorted Mr Satterthwaite.
‘Naughty,’ said the Duchess, and gave him a resounding blow on the knuckles with the dingy black fan she always carried. Mr Satterthwaite winced with pain.
‘Naomi is coming too,’ said the Duchess. ‘In her car. That girl wants taking out of herself. She’s very selfish. Not exactly self-centred, but totally indifferent to everyone and everything. Don’t you agree?’
‘I don’t think that’s possible,’ said Mr Satterthwaite, slowly. ‘I mean, everyone’s interest must go somewhere. There are, of course, the people who revolve round themselves—but I agree with you, she’s not one of that kind. She’s totally uninterested in herself. And yet she’s got a strong character—there must be something. I thought at first it was her art—but it isn’t. I’ve never met anyone so detached from life. That’s dangerous.’
‘Dangerous? What do you mean?’
‘Well, you see—it must mean an obsession of some kind, and obsessions are always dangerous.’
‘Satterthwaite,’ said the Duchess, ‘don’t be a fool. And listen to me. About tomorrow—’
Mr Satterthwaite listened. It was very much his role in life.
They started early the following morning, taking their lunch with them. Naomi, who had been six months in the island, was to be the pioneer. Mr Satterthwaite went over to her as she sat waiting to start.
‘You are sure that—I can’t come with you?’ he said wistfully.
She shook her head.
‘You’ll be much more comfortable in the back of the other car. Nicely padded seats and all that. This is a regular old rattle trap. You’d leap in the air going over the bumps.’
‘And then, of course, the hills.’
Naomi laughed.
‘Oh, I only said that to rescue you from the dickey. The Duchess could perfectly well afford to have hired a car. She’s the meanest woman in England. All the same, the old thing is rather a sport, and I can’t help liking her.’
‘Then I could come with you after all?’ said Mr Satterthwaite eagerly.
She looked at him curiously.
‘Why are you so anxious to come with me?’
‘Can you ask?’ Mr Satterthwaite made his funny old-fashioned bow.
She smiled, but shook her head.
‘That isn’t the reason,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘It’s odd . . . But you can’t come with me—not today.’
‘Another day, perhaps,’ suggested Mr Satterthwaite politely.
‘Oh, another day!’ she laughed suddenly, a very queer laugh, Mr Satterthwaite thought. ‘Another day! Well, we’ll see.’
They started. They drove through the town, and then round the long curve of the bay, winding inland to cross a river and then back to the coast with its
