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3
ing for footprints, Alex said to himself. But here he was wrong. They had
looked for footprints very early that morning and had been unsuccessful
because it had rained heavily at 2 A.M. ) Alex walked slowly up the drive,
turning over in his mind the possibilities of his new idea.
He was diverted from this however by the sight of Gina walking on the
and found Gina.
“If you could black out that absurd Victorian monstrosity,” he said,
screwing up his eyes, “this would make a very good Swan Lake, with you,
when I come to think of it. Ruthless, determined6 to have your own way,
very very feminine, Gina dear.”
“Because I refuse to be taken in by you? You’re very pleased with your-
self, aren’t you, Gina? You’ve got us all where you want us. Myself,
Stephen, and that large, simple husband of yours.”
“You’re talking nonsense.”
“Oh no, I’m not. Stephen’s in love with you, I’m in love with you, and
Gina looked at him and laughed.
Alex nodded his head vigorously.
“You have the rudiments of honesty, I’m glad to see. That’s the Latin in
you. You don’t go to the trouble of pretending that you’re not attractive to
men—and that you’re terribly sorry about it if they are attracted to you.
You like having men in love with you, don’t you, cruel Gina? Even miser-
able little Edgar Lawson!”
She said in a quiet serious tone:
“It doesn’t last very long, you know. Women have a much worse time of
it in the world than men do. They’re more vulnerable. They have children,
and they mind—terribly—about their children. As soon as they lose their
looks, the men they love don’t love them anymore. They’re betrayed and
he’s important and worthwhile. You say I’m cruel? It’s a cruel world!
Sooner or later it will be cruel to me! But now I’m young and I’m nice look-
warm sunny smile. “Yes, I enjoy it, Alex. Why shouldn’t I?”
“Why indeed?” said Alex. “What I want to know is what you are going to
do about it. Are you going to marry Stephen or are you going to marry
me?”
“I’m married to Wally.”
“Temporarily. Every woman should make one mistake matrimonially—
but there’s no need to dwell on it. Having tried out the show in the
provinces, the time has come to bring it to the West End.”
“And you’re the West End?”
“Indubitably.”
“Do you really want to marry me? I can’t imagine you married.”
“I insist on marriage. Affaires, I always think, are so very old-fashioned.
Difficulties with passports and hotels and all that. I shall never have a mis-
tress unless I can’t get her any other way!”
Gina’s laugh rang out fresh and clear.
“You do amuse me, Alex.”
“It is my principal asset. Stephen is much better looking than I am. He’s
extremely handsome and very intense which, of course, women adore.
tertaining.”
“Aren’t you going to say you love me madly?”
“However true that may be, I shall certainly not say it. It would be one
up to you and one down to me if I did. No, all I am prepared to do is to
make you a businesslike offer of marriage.”
“I shall have to think about it,” said Gina, smiling.
lot of sympathy with Wally. It must be absolute hell for him to be married
to you and trailed along at your chariot wheels into this heavy, family at-
mosphere of philanthropy.”
“What a beast you are, Alex!”
“A perceptive21 beast.”
“Sometimes,” said Gina, “I don’t think Wally cares for me one little bit.
He just doesn’t notice me anymore.”
“You’ve stirred him up with a stick and he doesn’t respond? Most annoy-
ing.”
Like a flash, Gina swung her palm and delivered a ringing slap on Alex’s
smooth cheek.
“Touché!” cried Alex.
struggled a moment and then relaxed….
“Gina!”
They sprang apart. Mildred Strete, her face red, her lips quivering,
glared at them balefully. For a moment, the eagerness of her words
“Disgusting … disgusting … you abandoned beastly girl … you’re just like
your mother … You’re a bad lot … I always knew you were a bad lot … ut-
terly depraved … and you’re not only an adulteress—you’re a murderess
too. Oh yes, you are. I know what I know!”
“And what do you know? Don’t be ridiculous, Aunt Mildred.”
“I’m no aunt of yours, thank goodness. No blood relation to you. Why
you don’t even know who your mother was or where she came from! But
you know well enough what my father was like and my mother. What sort
of a child do you think they would adopt? A criminal’s child or a prosti-
tute’s probably! That’s the sort of people they were. They ought to have re-
membered that bad blood will tell. Though I daresay that it’s the Italian in
you that makes you turn to poison.”
“How dare you say that?”
“I shall say what I like. You can’t deny now, can you, that somebody
tried to poison Mother? And who’s the most likely person to do that? Who
comes into an enormous fortune if Mother dies? You do, Gina, and you
may be sure that the police have not overlooked that fact.”
Still trembling, Mildred moved rapidly away.
“Pathological,” said Alex. “Definitely pathological. Really most interest-
perhaps?… Or would you say impotent?”
“Don’t be disgusting, Alex. Oh I hate her, I hate her, I hate her.”
“Lucky you hadn’t got a knife in your stocking,” said Alex. “If you had,
dear Mrs. Strete might have known something about murder from the
point of view of the victim. Calm down, Gina. Don’t look so melodramatic
and like Italian Opera.”
“How dare she say I tried to poison Grandam?”
“Well, darling, somebody tried to poison her. And from the point of view
“Alex!” Gina stared at him, dismayed. “Do the police think so?”
“It’s extremely difficult to know what the police think … They keep their
own counsel remarkably28 well. They’re by no means fools, you know. That
reminds me—”
“Where are you going?”
“To work out an idea of mine.”
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