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They
stood
,
each
replica
of
each
,
some
twenty
yards
apart
,
and
the
closer
waved
again
.
Then
both
disappeared
back
together
into
the
trees
.
Five
minutes
later
I
arrived
,
very
out
of
breath
,
at
the
deserted
Poseidon
statue
.
I
suffered
a
moment
’
s
angry
suspicion
that
I
was
being
teased
again
—
shown
them
only
to
lose
them
.
But
I
went
down
the
far
side
of
the
ravine
,
past
the
carob
;
and
soon
I
could
see
their
two
pink
figures
.
They
were
sitting
on
a
shaded
hummock
of
rock
and
earth
,
wearing
identical
summer
dresses
,
loose
-
topped
and
longskirted
,
of
some
cottony
material
with
thin
pink
and
white
,
rose
and
lily
,
stripes
.
A
glimpse
of
pale
blue
stockings
.
Rose
stood
as
soon
as
she
saw
me
coming
and
came
idly
and
Edwardianly
down
the
hummock
and
a
little
way
towards
me
.
She
had
her
hair
up
,
two
curved
wings
that
framed
her
face
and
ended
in
a
chignon
.
I
glanced
at
her
wrist
,
though
I
was
sure
.
It
had
no
scar
.
And
I
glanced
beyond
her
at
the
girl
whose
hair
was
down
her
back
,
as
loose
as
on
the
Sunday
morning
a
fortnight
before
;
who
looked
so
much
younger
,
yet
sat
and
unsmilingly
watched
us
meet
.
Rose
made
a
face
;
a
modern
face
that
denied
her
costume
.
"
Elle
est
fdchée
.
"
She
looked
round
.
Lily
had
presented
her
back
to
us
,
as
if
in
a
pique
.
"
I
told
her
you
said
you
didn
’
t
care
which
of
us
you
met
this
morning
.
"
"
That
was
kind
of
you
.
"
She
grinned
.
"
Bored
of
me
.
"
"
And
what
have
you
decided
?
"
She
hesitated
,
then
took
my
hand
and
led
me
to
the
foot
of
the
hummock
.
Lily
must
have
heard
us
,
hut
she
would
not
turn
.
So
Rose
led
me
round
the
foot
of
the
little
knoll
until
we
came
into
her
line
of
vision
.
"
Here
’
s
your
knight
in
shining
armor
.
"
Lily
looked
coolly
down
at
me
and
said
,
even
more
coolly
,
"
Hello
.
"
Rose
,
who
still
held
my
hand
,
forced
it
down
.
I
found
myself
bowing
beside
her
curtsey
.
Lily
smiled
faintly
,
and
said
,
"
Oh
June
.
Stop
it
.
"
I
looked
quickly
at
the
girl
beside
me
.
"
June
?
"
She
gave
a
dip
of
acknowledgment
.
I
glanced
back
at
Lily
.
RoseJune
said
,
"
That
’
s
my
twin
sister
Julie
.
"
A
jolt
of
shock
:
Conchis
had
already
told
me
this
name
.
I
quickly
suppressed
any
sign
of
surprise
.
But
I
was
on
guard
;
all
prickles
erect
.
Lily
-
Julie
got
to
her
feet
.
She
stood
on
a
ledge
of
rock
a
foot
or
so
above
us
,
and
looked
down
at
me
with
a
wary
unforgivingness
.
"
Who
you
did
not
meet
last
night
.
"
Her
skin
was
milky
,
but
her
cheeks
were
red
.
"
I
believed
it
was
you
.
"
"
June
,
go
away
.
"
But
Rose
-
June
hopped
up
beside
her
and
put
her
arm
round
her
and
whispered
something
in
her
ear
.
Once
again
,
as
always
when
I
looked
at
Lily
,
I
had
to
dismiss
the
idea
of
schizophrenia
.
Giving
me
her
real
name
was
another
Conchis
"
cod
"
;
a
mine
for
me
to
one
day
tread
on
.
The
two
of
them
stood
a
moment
,
Rose
-
June
’
s
arm
round
her
sister
’
s
shoulders
.
Whatever
she
had
said
had
brought
a
modified
forgiveness
.
They
smiled
down
at
me
in
their
different
ways
,
one
mischievous
,
the
other
shy
,
presenting
their
charming
twinness
to
me
,
perhaps
laughing
a
little
at
my
naïvely
fascinated
look
.
The
sunwind
touched
their
clothes
,
stroked
the
ends
of
Julie
’
s
hair
;
and
then
the
tableau
disintegrated
,
Rose
-
June
’
s
arm
fell
.
Lily
-
Julie
said
,
"
We
have
to
keep
to
a
kind
of
script
.
And
we
’
re
being
watched
.
"
Like
them
I
did
not
look
round
;
but
colluded
.
"
Script
?
"
Rose
-
June
said
,
"
She
’
ll
explain
.
"
She
jumped
down
and
held
out
her
hand
.
"
Goodbye
,
Nicholas
.
"
"
And
where
on
earth
are
you
going
?
"
She
looked
again
at
Lily
-
Julie
,
who
shook
her
head
;
Rose
-
June
raised
her
eyebrows
near
-
mutinously
.
"
I
’
m
not
allowed
to
say
.
"
She
stared
at
her
sister
.
"
You
are
going
to
tell
him
everything
?
"
Her
voice
was
suddenly
adult
,
without
humor
.
"
Everything
except
…
"
"
But
everything
else
.
"
"
You
must
go
.
They
’
ll
suspect
.
"
She
turned
her
back
and
Rose
-
June
leant
forward
and
squeezed
my
arm
.
"
Make
her
tell
you
everything
.
"
Her
eyes
looked
levelly
,
no
longer
playing
,
into
mine
.
"
We
count
on
you
.
More
than
you
can
imagine
.
"
Then
with
one
last
glance
at
her
sister
she
was
walking
back
towards
the
Poseidon
statue
.
I
smiled
to
myself
;
my
plan
of
action
was
clear
—
to
follow
where
Lily
-
Julie
led
…
until
I
could
pin
her
down
.
She
had
moved
away
towards
the
sea
cliff
.
I
went
up
behind
her
.
"
I
was
furious
.
I
was
so
disappointed
.
"
"
It
doesn
’
t
matter
.
"
"
Yes
it
does
.
"
She
gave
me
a
quick
,
shy
smile
then
,
but
said
nothing
;
as
if
,
after
all
,
we
really
didn
’
t
know
each
other
,
and
a
new
intimacy
had
to
be
established
;
and
something
more
serious
to
be
discussed
.
We
came
to
a
place
where
there
was
a
naturally
scalloped
-
out
bank
under
a
pine
tree
,
facing
the
sea
.
I
saw
a
white
raffia
bag
there
,
and
a
large
green
rug
with
a
book
on
It
.
She
kicked
off
her
pale
gray
shoes
,
stood
on
the
rug
and
sat
down
with
her
legs
curled
under
her
;
then
patted
the
rug
beside
her
.
A
cautious
,
muted
look
up
at
me
.
I
stooped
before
I
sat
,
to
pick
up
the
book
.
But
she
reached
first
.
"
Later
.
"
I
sat
.
She
put
the
book
into
the
bag
behind
her
and
as
she
turned
the
fabric
tightened
over
her
breasts
;
her
small
waist
.
She
faced
back
and
our
eyes
met
;
those
fine
gray
-
hyacinth
eyes
,
tilted
corners
,
lingering
a
moment
in
mine
.
"
Why
did
you
do
that
last
night
?
"
"
Not
come
?
"
She
sat
with
her
knees
drawn
up
,
staring
out
to
sea
.
"
The
script
said
I
was
to
promise
to
meet
you
,
the
matchsticks
,
but
June
was
really
to
meet
you
.
You
were
to
discover
who
she
is
.
She
was
to
tell
you
that
I
like
you
.
Then
we
were
all
three
to
meet
this
morning
.
Just
as
we
have
.
And
then
…
you
and
I
were
to
discover
that
we
were
falling
in
love
.
The
only
thing
is
that
June
was
to
have
convinced
you
last
night
that
I
,
I
mean
Lily
,
really
is
a
schizophrenic
.
Or
under
hypnosis
.
And
it
’
s
mad
.
We
knew
we
couldn
’
t
do
it
.
Just
one
final
madness
too
much
.
"
She
had
spoken
quickly
,
with
a
completely
new
matter
-
of
-
factness
,
a
complete
abandonment
of
role
.
She
threw
me
a
look
as
if
to
say
,
I
am
sorry
I
tricked
you
earlier
,
and
that
my
real
self
is
going
to
be
a
disappointment
;
a
tentative
,
uncertain
look
,
turned
off
towards
the
sea
.
Suddenly
she
seemed
more
distant
,
as
actresses
one
has
been
moved
by
onstage
so
often
are
offstage
;
a
disconcerting
alienation
effect
.
I
offered
her
a
Papastratos
.
"
No
thanks
.
I
don
’
t
.
"
"
Like
Lily
.
"
"
Like
Lily
.
"
There
was
silence
;
her
old
self
had
drained
away
,
like
water
between
stones
.
"
Well
?
"
"
Either
you
ask
me
questions
,
or
I
ask
you
.
I
don
’
t
mind
.
You
did
produce
credentials
to
my
sister
.
So
I
suppose
I
should
go
first
.
"
I
lit
my
cigarette
.
"
Let
me
guess
your
real
surname
…
Holmes
?
"
Her
head
shot
round
.
There
was
no
mistaking
her
shock
.
"
How
did
you
know
that
!
"
"
Intuition
.
"
"
But
June
swore
…
"
I
was
smiling
.
"
Please
.
Really
.
This
isn
’
t
funny
.
"
"
Maurice
told
me
.
"
It
amazed
her
.
"
He
told
you
our
real
names
!
"
"
Just
yours
.
"
"
And
what
else
?
"
She
was
propped
on
her
right
hand
,
staring
suspiciously
down
at
me
as
I
lay
on
my
side
.
"
I
thought
I
was
going
to
ask
the
questions
.
"
"
What
else
?
About
who
we
really
are
?
"
I
had
never
seen
her
so
concerned
;
almost
cross
.
"
This
schizo
thing
.
"
"
Yes
—
and
what
else
?
"
I
shrugged
.
"
That
you
were
dangerous
.
Good
at
deceiving
.
And
that
if
ever
one
day
you
told
me
your
real
name
I
was
to
he
especially
suspicious
.
"
She
went
back
to
hugging
her
knees
,
staring
out
through
the
branches
of
the
two
or
three
pine
trees
that
stood
between
us
and
the
clifftop
.
The
sea
came
through
them
,
deep
azure
merging
into
the
sky
’
s
deep
azure
.
The
sun
-
wind
shook
the
branches
,
flowed
round
us
like
a
current
of
warm
water
.
She
looked
lost
in
doubts
;
in
anxiety
;
gave
me
yet
another
quick
probing
look
.
"
Do
you
trust
us
at
all
?
"
"
’
And
everywhere
that
Mary
went
,
the
lamb
was
sure
to
go
.
’
"
It
was
the
wrong
answer
.
She
did
not
smile
and
killed
the
equivocal
smile
in
my
own
eyes
.
"
I
want
a
friend
.
Not
a
tame
lamb
.
"
"
I
’
m
ready
to
be
bought
.
By
the
right
evidence
.
"
She
searched
my
eyes
,
hunting
down
the
other
,
physical
,
price
I
implied
.
Then
looked
away
.
"
You
realize
that
Maurice
’
s
aim
is
to
destroy
reality
?
To
make
trust
between
us
impossible
?
"
"
I
’
m
more
interested
in
your
aim
.
"
"
Questions
?
"
"
Questions
.
"
She
turned
away
again
,
then
changed
her
mind
and
lay
on
her
side
,
on
her
elbow
,
facing
me
;
a
small
smile
.
"
Go
on
.
Anything
.
"
"
You
’
re
an
actress
?
"
She
shrugged
,
self
-
deprecating
.
"
At
Cambridge
.
"
"
What
did
you
read
?
"
"
Classics
.
June
did
languages
.
"
"
When
did
you
come
down
?
"
"
Two
years
ago
.
"
"
You
’
ve
known
Maurice
how
long
?
"
She
opened
her
mouth
,
then
changed
her
mind
,
and
reached
behind
her
for
the
bag
,
which
she
put
between
us
.
"
I
’
ve
brought
all
I
could
.
Come
a
little
closer
.
I
’
m
so
scared
they
’
ll
see
what
I
’
m
doing
.
"
I
looked
round
,
but
we
were
in
a
position
where
they
—
whoever
"
they
"
were
—
would
have
had
to
be
very
close
to
see
more
than
our
heads
.
But
I
went
nearer
,
shielding
what
she
brought
out
of
the
bag
.
The
first
thing
was
the
book
.
It
was
small
,
half
bound
in
black
leather
,
with
green
marbled
paper
sides
;
rubbed
and
worn
.
I
looked
at
the
title
page
;
Quintus
Horatius
Flaccus
,
Parisiis
.
"
It
’
s
a
Didot
Ainé
.
"
"
Who
’
s
he
?
"
I
saw
the
date
i8oo
.
"
A
famous
French
printer
.
"
She
turned
me
back
to
the
flyleaf
.
On
it
was
,
in
very
neat
writing
,
an
inscription
:
From
the
’
idiots
’
of
IVB
to
their
lovely
teacher
,
Miss
Julie
Holmes
.
Summer
1952
.
Underneath
were
fifteen
or
so
signatures
:
Penny
O
’
Brien
,
Susan
Smith
,
Susan
Mowbray
,
Jane
Willings
,
Lea
Gluckstein
,
Jean
Ann
Moffat
…
I
looked
up
at
her
.
"
First
of
all
explain
how
you
were
teaching
last
summer
in
England
and
—
remember
?
—
coping
with
Mitford
here
.
"
"
I
wasn
’
t
here
last
summer
.
That
’
s
the
script
.
"
She
ignored
my
unspoken
question
.
"
Please
look
at
these
first
.
"
Six
or
seven
envelopes
.
Three
were
addressed
to
:
Miss
Julie
and
Miss
June
Holmes
,
do
Maurice
Conchis
,
Esquire
,
Bourani
,
Phraxos
,
Greece
.
They
had
English
stamps
and
recent
postmarks
,
all
from
Dorset
.
"
Read
one
.
"
I
took
out
a
letter
from
the
top
envelope
.
It
was
on
headed
paper
.
ANSTY
COTTAGE
,
CERNE
ABBAS
,
DORSET
.
It
began
in
a
rapid
scrawl
:
Darlings
,
I
’
ve
been
frantically
busy
with
all
the
doodah
for
the
Show
,
on
top
of
that
Mr
.
Arnold
’
s
been
in
and
he
wants
to
do
the
painting
as
soon
as
possible
.
Also
guess
who
—
Roger
rang
up
,
he
’
s
at
Bovington
now
,
and
asked
himself
over
for
the
weekend
.
He
was
so
disappointed
you
were
both
abroad
—
hadn
’
t
heard
.
I
think
he
’
s
much
nicer
—
not
nearly
so
pompous
.
And
a
captain
!
!
I
didn
’
t
know
what
on
earth
to
do
with
him
so
I
asked
the
Drayton
girl
and
her
brother
round
for
supper
and
I
think
it
went
off
rather
well
.
Billy
is
getting
so
fat
,
old
Tom
says
it
’
s
all
the
grass
,
so
I
asked
the
D
.
girl
if
she
’
d
like
to
give
him
a
ride
or
two
,
I
knew
you
wouldn
’
t
mind
…
I
turned
to
the
end
.
The
letter
was
signed
Mummy
.
I
looked
up
and
she
pulled
a
face
.
"
Sorry
.
"
She
handed
me
three
other
letters
.
One
was
evidently
from
a
former
fellow
teacher
—
news
about
people
,
school
activities
.
Another
from
a
friend
who
signed
herself
Claire
.
One
from
a
bank
in
London
,
to
June
,
advising
her
that
"
a
remittance
of
£
ioo
had
been
received
"
on
May
31st
.
"
Our
salary
.
"
It
was
my
turn
to
be
surprised
.
"
He
pays
you
this
every
month
?
"
"
Each
of
us
.
"
"
Good
God
.
"
I
looked
at
the
letter
from
the
bank
again
and
memorized
the
address
:
Barclay
’
s
Bank
,
Englands
Lane
,
N
.
W
.
3
.
The
manager
’
s
name
was
P
.
J
.
Fearn
.
"
And
this
.
"
It
was
her
passport
.
Miss
J
.
N
.
Holmes
.
"
N
.
?
"
"
Neilson
.
My
mother
’
s
family
name
.
"
I
read
the
signalement
opposite
her
photo
.
Profession
:
student
.
Date
of
birth
:
16
.
12
.
1930
.
Place
of
birth
:
Cape
Town
,
South
Africa
.
"
South
Africa
?
"
"
My
father
was
a
commander
in
the
Navy
.
He
died
when
we
were
only
six
.
We
’
ve
always
lived
in
England
.
I
mean
he
was
English
.
"
Country
of
residence
:
England
.
Height
:
5
ft
.
8
in
.
Colour
of
eyes
:
gray
.
Hair
:
fair
.
Special
peculiarities
:
scar
on
left
wrist
(
twin
sister
)
.
At
the
bottom
she
had
signed
her
name
,
a
neat
italic
hand
.
I
flicked
through
the
visa
pages
.
Two
journeys
to
Italy
,
one
to
France
,
one
to
Germany
.
An
entry
visa
into
Greece
made
out
in
February
;
an
entry
stamp
,
March
31st
,
Athens
.
None
for
the
year
before
.
I
thought
back
to
March
31st
;
that
all
this
had
been
preparing
,
even
then
.
"
They
must
have
been
blind
.
At
Cambridge
.
No
one
marrying
you
.
"
She
looked
down
;
we
were
to
keep
to
the
business
in
hand
.
"
Which
college
were
you
at
?
"
"
Girton
.
"
"
You
must
know
old
Miss
Wainwright
.
Dr
.
Wainwright
.
"
"
At
Girton
?
"
"
Chaucer
expert
.
Langland
.
"
She
saw
my
trick
;
looked
down
,
unamused
.
"
I
’
m
sorry
.
Of
course
.
You
were
at
Girton
.
"
She
left
a
pause
.
"
You
don
’
t
know
how
sick
I
am
of
being
a
figure
of
mystery
.
Never
using
contracted
forms
.
"
"
Mystery
becomes
you
.
But
come
on
.
A
teacher
.
"
She
was
an
unlikely
teacher
;
but
then
so
was
I
.
"
Where
?
"
She
mentioned
the
name
of
a
famous
girls
’
grammar
school
in
North
London
.
"
That
’
s
not
very
plausible
.
"
"
Why
not
?
"
"
Not
enough
cachet
.
"
"
I
didn
’
t
want
cachet
.
I
wanted
to
be
in
London
.
"
A
germander
light
in
her
eyes
,
blue
and
unflinching
.
"
I
see
.
And
Maurice
was
one
of
your
pupils
.
"
Though
she
laughed
then
,
it
was
against
her
mood
.
She
apparently
made
up
her
mind
that
questions
were
not
helping
;
that
what
she
had
to
say
was
too
serious
for
any
more
banter
.
"
We
,
June
and
I
,
were
in
a
London
amateur
company
called
the
Tavistock
Rep
.
They
have
a
little
theatre
in
Canonbury
.
"
"
Yes
.
I
went
there
once
.
Seriously
.
"
"
Well
,
last
summer
they
put
on
Lysistrata
.
"
She
looked
at
me
as
if
I
might
have
heard
about
it
.
"
There
’
s
a
rather
clever
producer
there
called
Tony
Hill
,
and
he
put
us
both
into
the
main
part
.
I
stood
in
front
of
the
stage
and
spoke
the
lines
and
June
did
all
the
acting
.
In
mime
.
You
didn
’
t
read
about
this
?
It
was
in
some
of
the
papers
…
quite
a
lot
of
real
theatre
people
came
to
see
it
.
The
production
.
Not
us
.
"
"
When
was
this
?
"
"
Almost
exactly
this
time
last
year
.
"
We
remained
leaning
close
together
.
She
began
putting
the
books
and
letters
back
.
"
One
day
a
man
came
backstage
,
told
us
,
June
and
me
,
he
was
a
theatrical
agent
and
he
had
someone
who
wanted
to
meet
us
.
A
film
producer
.
"
She
smiled
impatiently
at
me
.
"
Of
course
.
And
he
was
so
secretive
about
who
it
was
that
it
seemed
too
clumsy
and
obvious
for
words
.
But
two
days
later
we
both
got
a
formal
invitation
to
have
lunch
at
Claridge
’
s
from
someone
who
signed
himself
…
"
"
Maurice
Conchis
.
"
"
We
hesitated
,
then
—
just
for
fun
,
really
—
went
along
.
"
She
paused
.
"
And
Maurice
…
dazzled
us
.
Lunch
alone
with
him
in
his
private
suite
.
We
were
expecting
one
of
those
dreadful
pseudo
-
Hollywood
types
who
starts
feeling
you
after
the
first
ten
minutes
.
Instead
there
was
this
charming
,
impeccably
correct
man
.
Then
after
lunch
,
when
we
were
duly
enchanted
,
he
got
down
to
business
.
"
"
Didn
’
t
he
tell
you
anything
about
himself
?
"
She
tossed
her
hair
back
.
Serious
and
practical
.
I
began
to
believe
she
might
be
a
schoolmistress
.
"
Oh
yes
.
But
all
rather
vague
.
A
kind
of
lonely
rich
man
,
with
houses
in
France
and
Greece
.
A
bit
of
a
scholar
.
We
got
that
impression
.
And
a
lot
about
Bourani
.
He
described
everything
here
.
Exactly
as
it
is
…
as
a
place
.
And
he
told
us
about
this
film
company
he
owned
in
Beirut
.
"
She
silenced
me
.
"
And
then
—
it
was
so
amazing
—
he
suddenly
sprang
this
offer
on
us
.
To
star
in
a
film
he
was
going
to
make
this
summer
.
"
"
What
film
?
"
"
I
’
ll
tell
you
in
a
minute
.
At
first
we
were
terribly
suspicious
again
.
The
Lebanon
.
But
then
he
said
the
salary
.
"
She
sat
up
,
turned
her
still
amazed
face
to
me
.
