presence.
It was seven years since Thomas had seen Audrey Strange. He studied her now very carefully. Had she changed, and, if so, in what way?
There was a change, he decided. She was thinner, paler, altogether more ethereal-looking — but there was something else, something he could not quite define. It was as though she were holding herself tightly in leash, watchful over every movement — and yet all the time intensely aware of everything going on round her. She was like a person, he thought, who had a secret to hide. But what secret? He knew a little of the events that had befallen her in the last few years. He had been prepared for lines of sorrow and loss — but this was something else. She was like a child who, by a tightly clenched hand over a treasure, calls attention to what it wants to hide.
And then his eyes went to the other woman — the girl who was now Nevile Strange's wife. Beautiful, yes. Mary Aldin had been right. He rather fancied dangerous, too. He thought: I wouldn't like to trust her near Audrey if she had a knife in her hand … And yet, why should she hate Nevile's first wife? All that was over and done with. Audrey had no part or parcel in their lives nowadays.
Footsteps rang out on the terrace as Nevile came round the corner of the house. He looked warm and was carrying a picture paper. 'Here's the Illustrated Review,' he said. 'Couldn't get the other — '
Then two things happened at precisely the same minute.
Kay said: 'Oh, good, give it to me,' and Audrey, without moving her head, held out her hand almost absent- mindedly.
Nevile had stopped half-way between the two women. A dawn of embarrassment showed in his face. Before he could speak, Kay said, her voice rising with a slight note of hysteria, 'I want it. Give it me! Give it me, Nevile!'
Audrey Strange started, turned her head, withdrew her hand and murmured with just the slightest air of confusion : 'Oh, sorry. I thought you were speaking to me, Nevile.'
Thomas Royde saw the colour come up brick-red in Nevile Strange's neck. He took three quick steps forward and held out the picture paper to Audrey.
She said, hesitating, her air of embarrassment growing: 'Oh, but — '
Kay pushed back her chair with a rough movement. She stood up, then, turning, she made for the drawing- room window. Royde had no time to move before she had charged into him blindly.
The shock made her recoil; she looked at him as he apologised. He saw then why she had not seen him; her eyes were brimming with tears — tears, he fancied, of anger.
'Hullo,' she said. 'Who are you? Oh! of course, the man from Malaya !'
'Yes,' said Thomas. 'I'm the man from Malaya .'
'I wish to God I was in Malaya ,' said Kay. 'Anywhere but here! I loathe this beastly, lousy house! I loathe everyone in it!'
Emotional scenes always alarmed Thomas. He regarded Kay warily and murmured nervously: 'Ah — hum.'
'Unless they're very careful,' said Kay, 'I shall kill someone! Either Nevile or that whey-faced cat out there!'
She brushed past him and went out of the room, banging the door.
Thomas Royde stood stock still. He was not quite sure what to do next, but he was glad that young Mrs. Strange had gone. He stood and looked at the door that she had slammed so vigorously. Something of a tiger cat, the new Mrs. Strange.
The window was darkened as Nevile Strange paused in the space between the trench windows. He was breathing rather fast.
He greeted Thomas vaguely.
'Oh — er — hullo, Royde, didn't know you'd arrived. I say, have you seen my wife?'
'She passed through about a minute ago.' said the other.
Nevile in his turn went out through the drawing-room door. He was looking annoyed.
Thomas Royde went slowly through the open window. He was not a heavy walker. Not until he was a couple of yards away did Audrey turn her head.
Then he saw those wide-apart eyes open wider, saw her lips part. She slipped down from the wall and came towards him, hands outstretched.
'Oh, Thomas,' she said. 'Dear Thomas! How glad I am you've come!'
As he took the two small white hands in his and bent down to her Mary Aldin in her turn arrived at the French windows. Seeing the two on the terrace she checked herself, watched them for a moment or two, then slowly turned away and went back into the house.
II
Upstairs Nevile had found Kay in her bedroom. The only large double-bedroom in the house was Lady Tressilian's. A married couple was always given the two rooms with communicating door and a small bathroom beyond on the west side of the house. It was a small isolated suite.
Nevile passed through his own room and on into his wife's. Kay had flung herself down on her bed. Raising a tear-stained face, she cried out angrily: 'So you've come! About time, too!'
'What is all this fuss about? Have you gone quite crazy, Kay?'
Nevile spoke quietly, but there was a dent at the corner of his nostril that registered restrained anger.
'Why did you give that Illustrated Review to her and not to me?'
'Really, Kay, you are a child. All this fuss about a wretched little picture paper.'
'You gave it to her and not to me,' repeated Kay obstinately.
'Well, why not? What does it matter?'
'It matters to me.'
'I don't know what's wrong with you. You can't behave in this hysterical fashion when you're staying in other people's houses. Don't you know how to behave in public?'
'Why did you give it to Audrey?'
'Because she wanted it.'
'So did I, and I'm your wife.'
'All the more reason, in that case, for giving it to an older woman and one who, technically, is no relation.'
'She scored off me! She wanted to and she did. You were on her side!'
'You're talking like an idiotic, jealous child. For goodness' sake, control yourself, and try and behave properly in public!'
'Like she does, I suppose?'
Nevile said coldly: 'At any rate, Audrey can behave like a lady. She doesn't make an exhibition of herself.'
'She's turning you against me! She hates me and she's getting her revenge.'
'Look here, Kay, will you stop being melodramatic and completely foolish? I'm fed up!'
'Then let's go away from here! Let's go to-morrow. I hate this place!'
'We've only been here four days.'
'It's quite enough! Do let's go, Nevile.'
'Now look here, Kay. I've had enough of this. We came here for a fortnight, and I'm going to stay for a fortnight.'
'If you do,' said Kay, 'you'll be sorry. You and your Audrey! You think she's wonderful!'
'I don't think Audrey is wonderful. I think she's an extremely nice and kindly person, whom I've treated very badly and who has been most generous and forgiving.'
'That's where you're wrong,' said Kay. She got up from the bed. Her fury had died down. She spoke seriously — almost soberly.
'Audrey hasn't forgiven you, Nevile. Once or twice I've seen her looking at you … I don't know what is going
