Lee grunted. He was beginning to be profoundly relieved that he had not known the lady, but, glancing at the sorrowing faces around him, he forbore to say so. Instead, he raised a point which had been fascinating him.
"Did she always quote from her old plays when she got up to mis-I mean, whatever she was doing? Even when she was alone?"
"Madame was always acting, Monsieur." Genevieve supplied the answer and made it clear that she felt she was recording a very fine and natural trait.
"They do, you know," put in Victor, speaking from his seat just outside the circle. "Old actors and actresses always quote all the time. They dramatise everything and often the words fit. I don't know why the explanation didn't occur to me at the time. If the words had not been so natural and so like her, I should have understood, but I didn't recognise them. She spoke with such sweet gentleness, and so simply, that I took it for granted she was talking to Kit, as a matter of fact." A flicker of embarrassment passed over his narrow face. "I imagined he had followed me up and gone in to her as Denis came out. When I got down to the greenhouse again and found him still there I could not possibly imagine who it was that had been with her. I was so miserable, and so bewildered, that I didn't care."
Nobody spoke and he settled back in his chair again, his long hands clasped over his knees. His forehead was still wet with sweat beads and his eyes were heavy.
Presently the police began to leave. In ten minutes they had changed from being enemies to very ordinary embarrassed officials, anxious to get home.
The superintendent and the sergeants melted out of the group and Lee prepared for departure. To Sir Kit his manner verged on the apologetic.
"I made a mistake," he said simply as they stepped aside for a moment. "I could see someone was being clever and I didn't pick on the right person." His glance wandered to Victor and rested there a moment. "I overestimated," he said. "Well, I must say, for everybody's sake I'm glad it turned out as it did."
"Are you, indeed?" The old man's quiet amazement was disconcerting.
Lee blinked and took refuge in being obliging.
"There'll be no need for the p.m. now," he murmured. "There'll be time to cancel it. I'll be seeing the press too. I promised them a statement tonight if they'd only leave me alone. They'll be waiting for me down at the Lion. You can rely on me to see it's put to them as decently as possible. As a matter of actual fact, it's an accident, I suppose. There'll be an inquest, of course, but-well, I shouldn't worry, sir."
He was behaving very handsomely and Kit recognised it.
"Very good of you," he said firmly. "I shall appreciate that, Inspector." To emphasise his gratitude he went down to the front door with him, beckoning first Margot and then Denis to follow. They all four shook hands on the step, and just before he went Lee hesitated and spoke to the girl.
"I hope I haven't upset your affairs, miss," he said, "but you can't-er-make omelettes without breaking eggs, you know."
As the door closed behind him Kit laughed softly.
"Queer fellow," he said. "Crude, clumsy, brutal in some ways, but embarrassingly well-meaning. Thank God he's gone. Now, if you two will come in here, there is something I must say to you tonight." He put his hands on their shoulders and steered them into the untidy drawing room. The fire had burnt to a heap of white wood ash, but he took up his position with his back to it and stood looking at them.
"I don't know if Margot should hear this," he began. "I've been wondering, but on the whole I think perhaps she should. Not for your sake, Denis, but for Zoff's. You may think," he went on, choosing his words with some difficulty, "that I think too much of Zoff. I do. I always have. She has been abominable. I wasn't going to admit it before that fellow, but this last act was wicked and it was unforgivably cruel. I loved her, I suppose, as much as any man has ever loved a woman, and I do most freely admit that she was often cruel, but you must let me tell you something in fairness to her."
"My dear Kit." Denis looked younger than his years in his sympathy and embarrassment. "Don't," he said gently. "It doesn't matter now. It's over. Let's forget-"
"No." The old man cut him short. "No," he repeated. "There's no forgetting, but there is understanding, and with that sometimes there comes forgiveness. She hated you, Denis, and I know why." He paused and looked at the girl. "Zoff was five years younger than you, Margot, when she married D'Hiver," he said. "He was twenty years older than she was, but she adored him. She was a peasant and an actress, and he was the head of one of the first families of France. His home was near her own. She had known him and looked up to him from babyhood. Before they married he made one extraordinary stipulation. He insisted that she should adopt and bring up as her own the baby daughter who had just been born to her own elder sister. This girl had died in childbed, unmarried, and her disgrace was one of the peasant family's chief annoyances at the time. D'Hiver gave no explanations. He was like that. He commanded and Zoff obeyed. The child was called Elise d'Hiver."
Denis was staring at him, deep furrows cutting his forehead, his heavy chin thrust out.
"Then all that dreary old business of the court case was justified," he said slowly.
"Hardly justified," Kit's lips grew crooked on the word. "That case was one of Zoff's unforgivable cruelties, Zoff had given her word to D'Hiver. She had her portion of his fortune and the man was dead. She lost her case and quite rightly. But her allegation was true. Elise was not her own daughter. She was her sister's. She never admitted that."
"Oh, but even so." Margot was so sorry for him, so anxious to spare him, "Even so, why should she hate Denis?"
He looked from the one to the other of them unhappily,
"She hated Denis, my dear," he said, "because when she saw him she saw D'Hiver. Felix recognised the likeness. I saw it in his face the other day, I recognised it. To Zoff it must have been a revelation. You are D'Hiver, Denis, in modern clothes."
Denis passed his hand over his forehead.
"Then my mother," he said, "was-"
"Was D'Hiver's child but not Zoff's." Kit sat down, "My dear boy," he said, "this is all fifty years ago."
"Zoff did not know it was his until she saw Denis?"
"Zoff was jealous." he agreed sadly, "Zoff never grew old. That was her tragedy. Forgive her, Denis, if you can. And now for God's sake don't try to do anything quixotic about the money," he said briskly. "Most of it sprang from D'Hiver anyway. You're going to finance some sort of clinic, aren't you? Then do it. Let my poor girl have done a little bit of good."
He got up and went toward the door.
"I'm tired," he said, pausing to look back at them. "There'll be a lot to do tomorrow. Don't come with me, my dears. I shall be all right."
Margot remained halfway toward him. His weariness was as vivid to her as if it had been her own. But there was one question she could not keep back.
"Kit," she said, "how did you know?"
He smiled at her. "I knew," he said, "because she left me for D'Hiver, long ago, when we were boy and girl. She loved him, not me, you see. Good night."
The door closed behind him but she remained looking at it until Denis went over and drew her down beside him. He put an arm round her and gathered her close to him.
"You're an actress too, and you suspected me of being a murderer," he said. "But I'm going to marry you. D'you know? If it's any comfort to you, there are no stipulations."
* * *
[Scanned anonymously in a galaxy far far away]
[A 3S Release v1, html]
[October 12, 2006]
rethis-inline-share-buttons">share
[Title here] Page 20