Jill had thrown her head back, and was singing jubilantly at the top
of her voice. The appositeness of the song had cheered her up. It
seemed somehow to make her forebodings rather ridiculous, to reduce
them to absurdity, to turn into farce the gathering tragedy which had
been weighing upon her nerves.

"Then she shook her head,
Looked at me and said:
'Poor John!' . . ."

"Jill," said a voice at the door. "I want you to meet my mother!"

"Poo-oo-oor John!" bleated the hapless Freddie, unable to check
himself.

"Dinner," said Parker the valet, appearing at the door and breaking a
silence that seemed to fill the room like a tangible presence, "is
served!"



CHAPTER TWO


1.

The front-door closed softly behind the theatre-party. Dinner was
over, and Parker had just been assisting the expedition out of the
place. Sensitive to atmosphere, he had found his share in the dinner
a little trying. It had been a strained meal, and what he liked was a