We were in the shadows. He stopped and his arms tightened round me. "And now…" he said.

Later, when I could speak, I said shakily: "I love you. I love you. I love you." And, of course, after that singularly ill-advised remark it was impossible to speak or even breathe for a very long time indeed.

When at length he let me go and spoke, I hardly recognised his voice. But, slurred and unsteady as it was, it still held that little undertone of laughter that was unmistakably his. "Well aren't you going to ask it?"

"Ask what?"

"What every woman in the world asks straight away. The vow returned. ’Do you love me?’"

I said: "I'll settle for whatever you want to give."

"I told you before not to be humble, Linda."

"I can't help it. It's the way you make me feel."

He said: "Oh God!" in that queer wrenched voice and pulled me to him again. He didn't kiss me but held me tightly and spoke over my head into the darkness. "Linda… Linda, listen."

"I'm listening."

"This love thing. I don't know. This is honest. I don't know."

Something twisted at my heart that might-if it were not absurd-have been pity. "It doesn't matter, Raoul. Don't"

"It does. You have to know. There've been other women- you know that. Quite a few."

"Yes."

"This is different." A silence. The ghost of a laugh. "I'd say that anyway, wouldn't I? But it is. It is." His cheek moved against my hair. "Linda. That's the hell of a name for a Frenchwoman, isn't it? So now you know. I want you. I need you, by God I do. If you'd call that love-"

"It’ll do," I said. "Believe me, it'll do."

Another silence. The fire burned steadily, filling the room with shadows. In one of the logs I could hear the whine and bubble of resin.

He gave a queer little sigh and then loosed me, holding me at arm's length. His voice was his own again, cool, casual, a little hard. "What were you and Carlo talking about?"

The question was so unexpected that I started. "I-why, I hardly remember. Things. And-oh, yes, my frock. Yes, we talked about my frock."

I saw him smile. "Come now, confess. You talked about me."

"How did you know?"

"Second sight."

"Oh, murder," I said. "Don't tell me you've got it as well."

"As well?"

"Your father's a warlock; didn't you know?*'

"Oh? Then shall we just say that I've got excellent hearing. Did Carlo warn you that my intentions were sure to be dishonourable?"

"Of course."

"Did he, by God?"

"More or less. It was done by implication and with the nicest possible motives."

"I'm sure of it. What did he say?"

I laughed at him and quoted: " 'You and Raoul, no and no and no.' And you are not to be angry. I adore Monsieur Florimond and he was only talking to me for my own good."

He was looking down at me soberly. "I'm not likely to be angry. He was too damned near right. I don't mean about my motives, but that probably you and I-" He stopped. "I've told you how I feel. But you; you say you love me."

I said: "Yes and yes and yes."

I saw him smile. "Again thrice. You're very generous."

"I was cancelling Carlo out. Besides, we have a poem in English which says: 'What I tell you three times is true'."

Another pause. Then he said, still holding me: "Then you will take a chance on marrying me?"

I began to tremble. I said huskily: "But your father-"

His hands moved so sharply that they hurt me. "My father? What's it to him?"

"He'll be so angry. Perhaps he'll do something about it- make you leave Bellevigne, or-"

"So what? I'm not tied to him or to Bellevigne." He gave a short, half-angry laugh. "Are you afraid of harming my position? My prospects? By God, that's rich!"

I said falteringly: "But you love Bellevigne, don't you? You told me you did, and Mrs. Seddon said-"

"So she's been talking about me, too, has she?"

"Everybody does," I said simply.

"Then did she tell you I hadn't any future except Bellevigne, and that only until Philippe gets Valmy?"

"Yes."

"Well, she's right." He added more gently: "Does that three-times-true love allow you to take a chance on a barren future?"

"I said I'd settle for what you had to give, didn't I?"

Another of those little silences. "So you did. Then you’ll marry me?"

"Yes."

"In the teeth of the warnings?"

"Yes."

"And without prospects?"

"Yes."

He laughed then, still on that curious note of triumph. "You needn't worry about that," he said cryptically. "Fair means or foul, I'll always have prospects."

"An adventurer, that's what you are," I said. He was looking down, and the black eyes were veiled again. "Aren't you?"

I said slowly: "Yes, I believe I am."

"I know you are," said Raoul. "Diamond cuts diamond, my darling. Kiss me and seal the bargain."

Afterwards he let me go. I said uncertainly: "Do we have to-tell them?"

"Of course. Why not? I'd like to shout it from the housetops now, but if you like we'll wait till tomorrow."

"Oh yes, please.”

I saw his teeth gleam. "Does it need so much hardihood, ma mie? Are you afraid of my father?"

"Yes."

He gave me a quick, surprised look. "Are you? You've no need. But I'll tell them myself if you'd rather. You can just keep out of the way until it's done."

I said: "They'll be-so very angry."

"Angry? You undervalue yourself, my dear."

"You don't understand. I'm-I was due to be sacked anyway. That doesn't make it any easier to tell them."

"Due to be sacked? What on earth do you mean?"

"What I say. I was rather expecting to be told tomorrow. That's why I didn't want to come down to the dance."

"But-why? What's the crime?"

I looked up at him and gave a little smile. "You."

It took him a moment to assimilate this. "Do you mean because Héloïse saw me kissing you? You were to be sacked for that? Rubbish," he said curtly.

"It's true. At least I think so. You-well, you heard how Madame spoke to me just afterwards, and when I went into Soubirous today it was quite obvious that the story had got round." I told him about the reception I had had in the village. "Albertine-the maid-may just have been scandalmongering because she doesn't like me, but I think she probably knows what Madame intends to do."

He lifted a shoulder indifferently. "Well, it doesn't matter, does it? You needn't let it worry you now. In any case I'm sure you're wrong. Héloïse would never want to let you go."

I said rather shyly: "I thought that myself. I did think it- odd, because of Philippe."

He said quickly: "Philippe?"

"Yes. I-don't get me wrong; I don't think I did anything very great for Philippe. The shooting business in the wood was nothing. I just didn't lose my head and fuss him too much, but I-well, I did save him the time he nearly fell off the balcony, and your father said-"

Raoul said: "What time? What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you know?" I said, surprised. I told him about the grim little incident that had crowned my shopping trip to Thonon. He listened, his face turned away from me towards the fire. In the flickering light I couldn't read his expression. He reached abstractedly for a cigarette and lit it. Over the flare of the match I could see he was frowning. I finished: "And your father knew that night that you'd kissed me. I'm sure he did. You remember?"

A glint through the frown. "I remember."

"There wasn't any talk then about sending me away. But there is now, really."

He laughed: "Well, my love, we've given them more cause, haven't we? Let that be a comfort to you. It's very probable that everybody in the ballroom knows by this time that you've gone out with me, and is speculating wildly on the whys and wherefores."