Well, she had to convince him, push the knife right home and kill the thing which wouldn’t let go of its belief in Lila. It was quite horrible, but it had got to be done. She said, ‘Bill-’ And in a moment he had her by the shoulders.

‘It’s a lie! I say it’s a lie!’

She was held in a bruising grip. His eyes blazed, his voice came thick with stumbling words.

‘It’s a lie! She couldn’t-you’re making it up! Say it isn’t true!’

She said nothing at all, only let her eyes meet the fury in his with a long sorrowful look.

They stayed like that until suddenly he took his hands away and stood back.

‘I’m sorry.’ He looked at his hands in an odd bewildered manner, and then at her. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

Her bruised shoulders were rather a relief than otherwise, but she couldn’t tell him that. She said,

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘What’s been going on?’

‘You didn’t write. Lady Dryden made the most of that. Herbert Whitall made the running.’

He said in that stumbling voice,

‘I sent her a cable-three weeks ago. And one the day I sailed. I wrote five letters-after I came round-in the hospital.’

‘She hasn’t had them-I’m sure she hasn’t had them.’

‘Someone is going to pay for that.’

His voice had cleared and steadied. There was a frightening edge to it. She wanted to cry out. Instead she rushed into speech.

‘Bill-you mustn’t-it’s no good. I’ve done my best-I really have. I’d do anything-you know I would.’

‘Yes. It’s not your fault. I must see Lila.’

Ray looked at him. In her own mind something said, ‘You can’t help people who won’t help themselves. Lila won’t help herself.’ She stood silent because she had nothing to say.

And then Bill had himself in hand. Something closed down over the naked anger which had dominated him. She knew that it was there, but a door had been shut on it and a guard set. He began to fire questions at her.