“Well, so might I, too, because of the children, but before I could make up my mind there came the sound of a really hard slap and a yell, and the tack-room door burst open. Out flew Miss Harness.”

“Harkness.”

“Well, anyway out she flew and bolted past us and round the house and away. And there in the doorway stood Mr. Harkness with a strap in his hand, roaring out Old Testament anathemas.”

“What action did you take?” asked her husband.

“I turned into a sort of policewoman and said, ‘What seems to be the trouble, Mr. Harkness?’ and he strode away.”

“And then?”

“We left. We couldn’t go running after Mr. Harkness when he was in that sort of mood.”

“He might have hit us,” Bruno pointed out. His voice had the unpredictable intervals of adolescence.

“Could we get back to the girl in the garden with the children? A sense of impending disaster seems to tell me she is Miss Harkness.”

“But none other. We came upon her on our way home. She was standing near the edge of the cliffs with a very odd look on her face, so I stopped the car and talked to her and she’s nine weeks gone. My guess is that she won’t tell Mr. Harkness who the man is, which is why he set about her with the strap.”

“Did she tell you who the man is?”

“Not yet. One mustn’t nag, don’t you feel?” asked Julia, appealing to Ricky. “All in good time. Come and meet her. She’s not howling now.”

Before he could reply two more Pharamonds came in: an older man and a young woman, each looking very like Bruno and Jasper. They were introduced as “our cousins, Louis and Carlotta.” Ricky supposed them to be brother and sister until Louis put his arms around Carlotta from behind and kissed her neck. He then noticed that she wore a wedding ring.

“Who,” she asked Julia, “is the girl in the garden with the children? Isn’t she the riding-school girl?”