“Three or four years before the war—1910 I suppose it must have been. I started out to work for a living, because my father hadn’t left us very well off. And then, quite soon, I met this man Brotherhood. He proposed and I accepted him—you mustn’t ask me why, Mr. Reeves. That’s a thing even detectives can’t find out about, why women fall in love with men. I’ll only mention that at that time he wasn’t a bit rich. After I married we lived in a rather horrid house in Kensington. I never knew anything about his Stock Exchange business much, though I always had an idea that it wasn’t very safe, if it was even honest. He began to make money quite soon; and then, you see, he made the whole of it over to me. He was afraid, of course, that he might go bankrupt, and he wanted to have a good reserve which his creditors couldn’t touch. I was always rather a fool about business, or I suppose I should have minded the arrangement. As it was, I just thought it very nice of him, and we made arrangements to take a house in the country. I wanted Binver, because it was one of the few places where I’d any friends. “Then, quite suddenly, I found out about him. I don’t mean about his business; I mean about his private life. There are lots of atheists who are very nice people; my husband wasn’t one of them. I somehow feel that he chucked over morals first and religion afterwards, if you know what I mean, not the other way about.” Reeves wrote down “Brotherhood not only – God but – morals”; then he scratched it out again. Miss Rendall-Smith went on: “I didn’t want a divorce: you see, I’d been rather strictly brought up about those things. And of course he didn’t want one, because of the money. Just when I wanted help and advice, I met Mr. Davenant again; and he was furious when I told him about it all. He set to work to try and find out something about my husband’s business, and he did discover something (I don’t know what it was) which would have ruined him if it had come out. Then he went to my husband and put a pistol to his head, so to speak—blackmailed him really, I suppose. He made my husband take a solemn oath to let me go my own way and never, without my express consent, publish the fact that he’d married me. Then I came down here and took the house in Binver and thought it was going to be all right.