Miss Silver coughed.

‘What plans did you make?’

Katharine smiled – a brief, rather tremulous smile.

‘I rang up a friend who was looking for a flat and told her she could have mine. And I rang up another friend who was just going abroad and asked if I could have hers. I told her I didn’t want anyone to know where I was, and she said, “All right.” I told my relations I had let my flat and was taking a job, and I didn’t say where. And I wrote to Mr. Davies at his private address and told him not to say anything to anybody, because it was my affair and I wanted to manage it my own way. In the afternoon I drove to Victoria Station with my luggage, and when the taxi had gone I took another to Carol’s flat in Rasselas Mews. And then I went to Ellery Street to ask if they wanted an assistant at Tattlecombe’s Toy Bazaar. And it was Thursday – I’d forgotten all about Thursday being early closing in those outlying places. All the shops were shut. I didn’t feel as if I could bear it, but there just wasn’t anything to be done. I had to go back and get through another perfectly interminable night. That was the night Mr. Tattlecombe had his accident – but of course I didn’t know about it until afterwards. That left them very short-handed indeed. In the morning I went back to Ellery Street and went into the shop to ask if they wanted an assistant. There was a Miss Cole there.’ Katharine gave a little laugh. ‘She didn’t like me a bit – it stuck out all over her. And then’ – her voice checked, steadied, and went on again – ‘William came in.’

There was rather a long silence. Then Katharine leaned forward and said,

‘He didn’t know me, but – he fell in love with me. He didn’t remember me, but he remembered loving me.’

Miss Silver looked across her knitting and smiled the smile which had won her many confidences, many friends. The dowdy little governess wasn’t there any more. Intelligence, understanding, a sustaining and comprehensive sympathy, just blotted her out. It was rather like seeing the light come through a stained-glass window.

Katharine experienced a sense of release. It wasn’t going to be difficult any more. She could say anything, and what she said would be understood – she could let go and say just what came into her mind. Everything in her was quieted. She said,

‘Miss Cole was horrified because William engaged me on the spot. She couldn’t help seeing that he had fallen for me, and she thought I was a vamp. I went to work next day. William and I painted toys together. We were frightfully happy.’

‘Yes?’

‘I gave my real name, Katharine Eversley. Cyril and Brett are – distant cousins. Even the name didn’t mean anything to William – things that happened before ’42 just don’t exist. But he fell in love with me all over again.’

Miss Silver looked at her.

‘Why did you not tell him?’

The bright colour came up.

‘How could I? He’d forgotten me. I couldn’t say, “You loved me – you’ve forgotten.” That was at first. Then when I knew that he was loving me again, I thought if he remembered that, he would remember me. Every time he kissed me I thought he would remember. And then I didn’t care. I only wanted us to have this time together. You see, when he knows who he is there will be a lot of business, a lot of worry. It’s going to be a shock to the people who thought he was dead, and who won’t be particularly glad to find that he is alive – ’ She broke off with that startled glance. ‘I oughtn’t to have said that – I don’t know that it would be like that. Things come into your mind – you can’t help it. If you put them into words it makes too much of them. You see, I haven’t anything to go on. I don’t know that they wouldn’t be glad, so I oughtn’t to say so.’

Miss Silver gave her slight cough.

‘You are speaking of Mr. Cyril and Mr. Brett Eversley?’

‘Yes.’

‘Mrs. Smith – who is your husband?’

The startled look was intensified. Katharine coloured vividly, but she answered at once and with complete simplicity.

‘He is William Eversley. He is their first cousin.’

Miss Silver smiled.

‘I thought so. Pray continue.’

‘His father was the eldest of the three brothers who built up the firm. He was the senior partner and the driving force, and he owned sixty per cent of the shares. He didn’t marry till he was fifty, which is why William is so much younger than Cyril and Brett. He died in ’38, when William was twenty-three and had been a partner for a couple of years. William joined up in ’39, and was missing in ’42. The firm turned over to Government work during the war, and I don’t think they’ve been very successful in getting back to ordinary conditions. Cyril isn’t a business man. He likes a quiet, pleasant life without too much to do. He paints in watercolour rather well, he collects eighteenth-century miniatures and snuff-boxes, he fancies himself at interior decoration. His house at Evendon is really very charming. He has always given me the impression that business bores him to tears.’ She paused, frowned, and went on again. ‘Brett’s different – younger – plenty of vitality, but-’ she laughed a little – ‘I should say he thought the business was there to provide him with an income. He enjoys himself a lot – has a great many friends, gets asked everywhere. He is very goodlooking, very charming, very good company.‘

Miss Silver coughed.

‘You have quite a gift for description.’

Katharine took a quick breath.

‘Have I? I’ve known them all my life. My father was an Eversley too, quite a distant cousin. But he and my mother were killed in a train smash when I was a baby, and William’s father and mother brought me up. I’m two years younger.’

Miss Silver got up and went over to the writing-table, a massive block with pedestal drawers and leather top. From a drawer on the left she extracted an exercise-book with a bright blue cover, spread it out flat upon the blotting-pad, and wrote. Presently she looked up.

‘It is as well to fix facts firmly whilst they are fresh in the mind. Perhaps you will now give me some particulars about Miss Jones.’

She turned back to the exercise-book to write the name, adding the words: ‘Secretary – 15 years’ service – efficient. Interviews William Smith December 6th.’

When she had finished she read them aloud.

‘Is there anything you would care to add?’

Katharine had come over to the table. She leaned upon it lightly with one hand and said in a troubled voice,

‘Care? Oh, yes. I don’t like her – I never have. It’s always easy to say things about people you don’t like.’

Miss Silver sat with the pencil in her hand.

‘Pray sit down, Mrs. Eversley.’ Then, as Katharine took the chair which so many clients had occupied, ‘Why do you not like Miss Jones?’

She got a sudden flash of humour.

‘She doesn’t like me – she never has. I’ll tell you about her as fairly as I can. I don’t how how old she is, but she doesn’t look it. She’s very – handsome. She’s Cyril’s secretary and she runs him. I shouldn’t think there’s anything about the business she doesn’t know, and of course that gives her a pull. She’s efficient. Cyril never could be, and Brett doesn’t bother. The result is you are apt to get the impression that she runs the firm. In a secretary it’s irritating. You must allow for that, because if someone irritates you, it just isn’t possible to be quite fair.’

‘Miss Jones irritates you?’

Katharine nodded.

‘Intensely. She has always treated me as if I was an illiterate black beetle, if you know what I mean. It doesn’t encourage a friendly feeling.’

Miss Silver coughed.

‘What are her relations with Mr. Cyril and Mr. Brett?’

Katharine lifted her hand from the table and let it fall again.

‘I don’t know. There was some talk about her and Brett a year or two ago. He took her about a bit. I ran into them at a road-house once. Stupid, because that sort of thing always gets out. I don’t suppose there was anything in it. And he’s a bachelor – it would be nobody’s business. Cyril’s wife died five years ago. His daughter married last year. He isn’t the flirtatious kind, but he depends on Miss Jones a good deal.’