'Oh nothing much. I was cut off by the tide.'

'None the worse, I hope?'

'No, no, I'm fine.'

'Well, you wanted to see me. Have you decided my fate?'

'Yes,' said Ducane. 'Have a drink.'

It was early evening. Ducane, who had been in bed until half an hour ago, was wearing his black silk dressing gown with the red asterisks over his pyjamas. A fire was burning in the grate which he had laid and lit himself, since Fivey was unaccountably absent. He still felt deeply chilled, as if there were a long frozen pellet buried in the centre of his body. However, the doctor had been reassuring. Mingo had probably saved both him and Pierce from dying of exposure. By the decree of fate and chance the water had abated within feet of them.

Ducane was still simply enjoying being alive. Existing, breathing, waking up and finding oneself still there, were positive joys. Here I am, he kept saying to himself, here I am. Oh good!

'Thanks,' said Biranne. 'I'll have some gin. Well?'

Ducane moved over to close the drawing-room window. The noise of the rush hour in Earls Court Road became fainter.

The evening sunlight made the little street glow with colour.

Oh beautiful painted front doors, thought Ducane, beautiful shiny motor cars. Bless you, things.

'Well, Ducane?'

Ducane moved dreamily back towards the fire. He went to the drawer of the desk and took out Radeechy's confession which he laid on a nearby chair, and also a copy which he had made on a large piece of paper of the cryptogram which Radeechy had written on the wall of the black chapel.

'Sit down, Biranne.'

Biranne sat down opposite to him. Still standing, Ducane handed him the sheet of paper with the cryptogram. 'Can you make anything of that?'

Biranne stared at it.'No. What is it?'

'Radeechy wrote it on the wall of the place where he performed his – experiments.'

'Means nothing to me.' Biranne tossed it impatiently on to the marble table beside his drink.

'Nor me, I thought you might have an inspiration.'

'What's this, a sort of spiritual test? Satori – that's Japanese, isn't it? What does it matter anyway?'

'Radeechy matters,' said Ducane. 'Claudia matters. Aren't you interested?' He was staring down at Biranne.

Biranne shifted uneasily. Then he stood up and moved back, putting the chair between them. 'Look here,' he said, 'I know what I've done. I don't need to be told by you. I know.'

'Good. I just wanted to be sure.'

They stared intently at each other.

'Well? Go on.'

'That, for a start.' Ducane turned away, and with a long sigh poured himself out some gin. Then he poured a little dry vermouth into the glass, measuring it judiciously. Then he began to inspect Biranne again, looking at him with a sort of grave curiosity.

'Get it over with,' said Biranne. 'You're turning me in. Don't cat and mouse me as well.'

'Cat and mouse,' said Ducane. 'Yes. Well, you may have to put up with being a little bit, as you charmingly put it, cat and moused. I want to ask you a few questions.'

'So you haven't decided? Or do you want me on my knees? Oro supplex et acclinis. Yes, you do think you're God!'

'Just a few questions, my dear Biranne.'

'Ask, ask.'

'Where's Judy?'

'I don't know,' said Biranne, surprised. 'You told me to drop Judy.' He gave a snarl of a laugh.

'And did you?'

'No. She dropped me. She just disappeared. I imagined she was with you. I must say I was rather relieved.'

'She's not with me,' said Ducane. 'But never mind about Judy. Forget Judy.'

'What's this all about, Ducane? I wish you'd get on with it., 'Listen, listen '

'I am listening, confound you.'

'Biranne,' said Ducane, 'do you still love your wife?'

Biranne put his glass down sharply on the table and turned away. He moved a little along the room. 'What's the relevance of this to – anything?'

'Answer me.'

'I don't know.'

'Well, think about it. We've got plenty of time.' Ducane sat down in one of the easy chairs, waving his glass gently about in a figure of eight. He took a sip.

'It's my affair.'

Ducane was silent. He gazed into his glass, breathing slowly and deeply. It seemed to him that he still smelt of the sea. Perhaps he would smell of the sea now until the end of his days.

'All right,' said Biranne. 'Yes, I do still love my wife. One doesn't recover from a woman like Paula. And now that I've satisfied your rather quaint curiosity perhaps we can get back to the matter in hand.'

'But this is by no means irrelevant to the matter in hand,' said Ducane. 'Do you ever think of returning to Paula?'

'No, of course not.'

'Paula and the twins '

'There isn't any road back to Paula and the twins.'

'Why back? Why not on? They haven't been standing still in the past: 'Precisely, Paula's written me off long ago. She's got a life of her own. May I now ask the reason for these impertinent inquiries?'

Pertinent, pertinent. Don't hustle me. I'm feeling very tired.

Give yourself another drink.'

Ducane pulled his chair closer to the fire and sipped the vermouth-fragrant gin. He did in fact feel very tired and curiously dreamy.

Biranne, who had been pacing the room, had stopped behind the chair opposite and was leaning on it, staring at Ducane with puzzlement.

, You were in the Commandos,' said Ducane. He looked up at Biranne's lean figure, his contracted slightly twisted clever face, under the dry fuzzy crest of hair.

'Your mind's rather straying around the place today,' said Biranne.

'That business with Eric Sears. Is it specially because of that you feel you couldn't possibly return to Paula? T 'Good God! Who told you about Eric Sears?'

'Paula did.'

'Oh she did, did she. Interesting. Well, it's a bit of a barrier.

When one has deprived somebody's lover of his foot – '

'It becomes an obsession, a nightmare –?'

'I wouldn't say quite that. But it's certainly one of those events that do things, psychological things.'

'I know. Paula felt this too.'

'Besides. Paula detests me.'

'No she doesn't. She still loves you.'

'Did she tell you that too?»

'Yes.'

'Christ. Why are you meddling here, Ducane?'

'Can't you see?'

'No, I can't.'

'You said it was mine to command and that I could make any conditions. Well, this is my decision. I'll keep quiet about everything if you will at least try out the possibility of returning to Paula.'

Biranne turned away and went to the window.

Ducane began to talk excitedly and fast, rather apologeti323 called. 'I remember your saying damn my duty, and I think now you were quite right, or rather there is another sort of duty. I don't want to wreck your life, why should I? It wouldn't help poor Claudia or poor Radeechy. And as for the processes of law, human law is only a very rough approximation to justice, and it's far too clumsy an instrument to deal with the situation that you're in. It isn't that I want to play God, I've just had this business forced upon me and I've got to do something about it.

I really want to get right out without doing any damage. As for the inquiry, I'm certain about the answer to the question and I shall say so without the details. The thing about Paula just came as an inspiration, an extra, a felicitous conjecture. She certainly loves you, so why not try it? I'm not sentencing you to succeed, I'm sentencing you to try.' Ducane stood up and banged his glass on to the mantelpiece.

Biranne came drifting back. He murmured, 'I haven't much choice, have I?'

'Well, you have and you haven't,' said Ducane.'I may as well reveal that I've decided not to open up this business anyway, I mean whatever you do. But since you're a gentleman – '

'I think you're crazy. It could be a disaster. I can't imagine how you see it as a good idea.'

'I've talked to Paula about it – in general terms of course, I haven't told her this lot. And I think she very much wants to try again. She appears not to have got over you, either.'

'No doubt you find this bizarre,' said Biranne. He stood for a moment looking into the fire. Then he said, 'All right, Ducane, all right. I'll try, just try. God knows how it'll be.'

'Good. You have sometimes thought of going back?'

'Yes, I have, but only in a fantasy way. When two rather stiffnecked people part as we parted '

'I know. That was why I felt a deus ex machina was not out of place.'

'I trust you've enjoyed yourself. All right. But when it comes to it Paula may find she hates the sight of me. And I don't imagine I'll turn into an ideal husband overnight.'

'Yes, yes. You'll go on being the bastard that you are.'

Biranne smiled and picked up his drink again. 'I'm surprised you don't want to preserve Paula from my clutches. Funny thing, I used to think that perhaps you and Paula – God, I'd have hated it! I couldn't bear the idea of any man coming near Paula, but you would have been the worst of all – '

'Well, if you want to keep other men off you'd better look after her yourself. By the way, I should have added another condition. You must tell Paula everything.'

'About Radeechy and so on?'

'Yes. Of course Paula may decide to, as you put it, turn you in. But somehow I don't think she will. Here, you'll need this.

I don't want it any more.' Ducane held out Radeechy's confession.

Biranne put it on the mantelpiece. He said, 'I think it would be wiser if you told Paula. I mean, just the outline of facts.

She may decide she doesn't want to see me. She may decide that anyway.'

'I don't think so. But all right, I'll tell her. Should she come up here to see you, or would you rather go down to Dorset?'

'Let her decide that. Well, no, it might be better in town. I –I don't feel quite ready to face the twins.'

Ducane laughed. 'The twins are indeed formidable. But I expect you'll find that they forgive you. Now there's nothing to say but good luck.'

Biranne, pulling at his lower lip, had made his face more than usually asymmetrical. 'I suppose this is a kind of blackmail, isn't it.'

'I suppose it is.'

'I think perhaps I'll take this along after all.' Biranne pocketed Radeechy's confession. They both laughed.

Biranne began to move towards the door.

'I'll drop you a note when I've seen Paula,' said Ducane.

'Thanks. And in general, thanks.'

They moved out towards the front door. As they reached it Biranne touched Ducane's shoulder. Ducane hastily held out his hand and they shook hands, avoiding each other's eyesi The next moment Biranne was in the street.

Ducane bent down rather wearily to pick up some letters which were lying on the that. He trailed back into the drawing room and poked the fire. He noticed that all the furniture was dusty. Where the devil was Fivey? His pleasant sense of aliveness seemed to have faded and the pellet of cold lengthened within him. He had probably got some permanent illness which would shortly declare itself. He shivered and found that his teeth were chattering.

He had strangely looked forward to that encounter with Biranne. But it had passed off as if in a dream. It was true that he no longer thought of Biranne as a bastard. He had somehow inevitably come to like him. But also some tension was now relaxed which had bound them together. He no longer needed Biranne. And if Biranne went back to Paula, and indeed in any case, Biranne would in the long run resent Ducane's intervention and would see it only as another exercise of power. Perhaps it was only another exercise of power. Biranne would avoid him, and if Biranne were with Paula, Paula would avoid him too. Ducane sighed. He very much wanted someone sympathetic to talk to, Mary Clothier for instance, he wanted someone to console him. He wanted something new to look forward to. He sat down and began to look at the letters.

One was from Kate, one was from Jessica, and the third one was in an unfamiliar hand. Ducane opened this one first. It read as follows.