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‘What’s more,’ went on Martha, ‘I knew something Mr Charvill didn’t, or he wouldn’t so readily have left it behind him. In a side-glance—for the floor was variously encumbered with overturned objects—he saw one of his paper weights, a coloured glass ball such as McClintock used in trade. Meantime, every preparation had been made outside for his departure. “Pretend,” he said, “that all I have said hasn’t been said. She felt her own body stir, ready for more. Pretend to weep both of you as loudly as you can. Better even than these. “It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy. “I should kill you.
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