Afterwards, Marion brought in a suit of clothes.
* * * *
Except for a handkerchief, there was nothing at all in the pockets, but Roger felt more himself, fully dressed. The clothes fitted well. He wasn’t allowed a tie, the shirt had a collar attached. He was brought a pair of leather slippers, but not shoes—and therefore no laces.
Marion allowed him twenty minutes to dress, and then came in. She left the door wide open. No one was in the narrow passage behind her. She looked fresh, with nothing to show that she had lost so much sleep during the night.
“Would you like to walk round the garden?”
“Er—may I?”
“Yes, it’s a glorious morning,” she said. “And afterwards you can sit downstairs for a while, a change will do you good. Did you sleep well after I left you?”
“Er—yes.”
“No dreams?”
“No.”
“I told you so,” she said; and she had.
He laughed inwardly, but was haunted by an uneasy feeling; she had prophesied it, and it had happened—her “cure” had worked.
The passage was narrow, with cream walls. There were four doors in it. It led to a landing and a narrow staircase, and he didn’t think that it was the front of the house. Downstairs, in a small hall, Marion took an overcoat from a peg and helped him on with it, slipped a coat over her shoulders like a cloak, and then opened the door. The sun shone brightly on them, warm and spring-like. It was good to breathe fresh air.
A bent old man approached a herbaceous border, but quickly disappeared. The beech-hedge was higher than it had seemed from the window—seven or eight feet high, and it looked thick; it wouldn’t be easy to get through or over that hedge. As they walked, Marion talked idly about trivial things.
At the end of the garden Roger stood and looked at the house.
There was nothing remarkable about it. The walls were grey, most of the windows small—only those on the ground floor appeared to open. Radio music came from one of the rooms. He guessed she didn’t want him to study the house closely, and she pressed his arm gently. He turned— and as he did so, a man appeared at a ground-floor window.
He knew it was the man who had talked to him after the hold-up. Even at this distance, those silvery-steely eyes were unmistakable.
CHAPTER VII
THE man withdrew, as if anxious not to be seen.
Roger kept his face blank, let his gaze roam past the window towards the daffodils near it. He knew that Marion was looking at him intently, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. She held his arm lightly and exerted a gentle pressure as they moved on.
“What is the matter?”
“I’m all right.”
“You must learn to tell me exactly what passes through your mind when you’re frightened.”
“I’m not frightened.”
“You are,” she said, and he couldn’t look away from her any longer, had to meet her eyes. They were so clear and grey—restful eyes. “I felt your arm go taut. Unless you talk freely, you won’t get better,” she said. She hadn’t talked so openly before about his being ill. “Why don’t you trust me?”
“You’ve been very good.”
“I want to help, that’s all, and I think I can.”
“How many other patients have you had here?”
“Quite a lot. I’ve been able to help some of them, and I’m very anxious to help you.”
“Why don’t you tell me what’s the matter with me, instead of hinting?”
“Don’t you know what’s the matter?”
“No.” He tightened his lips. “I’m as sane as you are. I want to leave here.”
“You may, as soon as you’re well.”
He pulled his arm free and stalked ahead of her, and she made no attempt to catch him up. The gardener went on working and showed no interest in him, behaving as if this were an everyday affair. He walked across the lawn glancing towards the window where he had seen the man with the fierce silvery eyes, but without staring. He caught a glimpse of the man, standing by the side of the window with a hand at the curtains.
He turned, and saw that Marion was walking slowly across the lawn. The sun shone on her hair, filling it with golden lights, giving her beauty. He waited for her, feeling —and looking—like a sulky schoolboy. She made no reference to what they had been saying.
“I expect you’re tired, you’d better come indoors.”
