England -- Fiction; Political fiction; Politicians -- Fiction; Spy stories
"No, Geoffrey. Do not recall that terrible tragedy. Promise never
again to mention his name; it only brings sadness to both of us, while
the mystery surrounding the crime is irritating and puzzling. You have
already told me that he was not your friend, although he posed as such,
therefore forget him. I have not forgotten; nor shall I ever cease to
think and to strive towards the solution of the problem."
"But cannot I help you to search and investigate?" I suggested. "Why
should you strive to elucidate this mystery alone, now that you are my
wife?"
"Because it is my ambition," she answered, regarding me earnestly with
clear, trusting eyes. "You will, I know, allow me to retain one object
in life apart from you."
"Certainly," I answered, surreptitiously pressing her hand, although
puzzled at her strange words. In the few weeks we had been together I
had discovered that she was a woman of moods and curious fancies. Once
or twice she had exhibited a strong desire to walk alone at night when
the moon shone, and because I objected she had pouted prettily, scorning
the idea that she was not able to take care of herself. Except when in
this mood she was always eager to fulfil my every wish, and I had
quickly arrived at the conclusion that her strange desires were but
natural to one of a slightly hysterical temperament, and therefore
troubled myself but little about them.
Thus after an enjoyable trip through one of the most beautiful districts
of France, unknown to the average Briton, we returned and settled
comfortably at our new home in Kensington. My duties at the Foreign
Office took me away the greater part of the day, but Ella was not
lonely, for she drove out frequently with her mother, who visited her
almost daily. Of interference or maternal influence I had nothing
whatever to complain, yet Ella's desire to wander about alone, aimless
and absorbed, soon again seized her. We had been settled about a month
when I made this discovery from the servants, who, on my arrival home
earlier than usual on several occasions, told me, in answer to
questions, that their mistress had gone out by herself. But on her
return she betrayed no surprise, mentioning quite incidentally that she
had been shopping in High Street, or that she had been to her milliner's
in Bond Street, or elsewhere.
So frequently did this occur that at last I became puzzled, and on
making further inquiries found that on many occasions she had been
absent the whole day, returning only just in time to change her dress
and receive me with that bright, winning smile that always held me
entranced.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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