She never accused him of failing her, even during their fiercest arguments, but he believed she felt that he had. “Maybe I’ll look around,” he said.

Karen put her head doubtfully to one side. “Promise?” she said.

“Not today,” said Deaken. “I’ve actually got a client today. I’ll start tomorrow.”

Karen stood and swept the crumbs she had created into her napkin and then cleared the rest of the breakfast things from the table. “I’ve been thinking,” she said, from the sink.

“About what?”

“Getting a job.”

She turned as she said it, conscious of the effect it would have. She lifted a rubber-gloved hand against any outburst, washing bubbles dripping onto the floor in front of her. “I’m not trying to start another fight,” she said quickly. “I’m bored with nothing to do. Honestly. And it would help; you’ve got to admit it would help. Financially, I mean.”

“I said I’d look around,” said Deaken tightly. Switzerland was packed with doctors and psychiatrists; maybe it wouldn’t take long. He wouldn’t tell Karen; she had once thought of him as strong and forceful…

“That’s got nothing to do with it,” she said. “Why on earth shouldn’t I work?”

“Because I don’t want a wife of mine having to,” he said, recognizing as he spoke the same pride that kept him from telling her of his fear of a breakdown.

“That’s rubbish!” she said. “I might have to soon.” She dried and creamed the hands of which she was so proud and began shaping her nails with an emery board.

“Wait. Please,” he said.

“What for?”

“Let’s see what I can find.”

“Haven’t we waited long enough?”

She stared up from her manicure and for a moment Deaken thought his wife was going to continue arguing. Instead she made a half shrug with her shoulders and went back to her filing. He got up from the table, took a cloth and began wiping the crockery she had stacked into the draining tray. He was alongside her, but she didn’t look at him.