“Now then,” said Dr. Stillingfleet, “listen to me. I’m going to suggest something.
You see that door?” Norma turned her head and looked in a puzzled fashion at the door.
“Perfectly ordinary door, isn’t it? Not locked. Opens and shuts in the ordinary way. Go on, try it for yourself. You saw my housekeeper come in and go out through it, didn’t you? No illusions. Come on. Get up. Do what I tell you.” Norma rose from her chair and rather hesitatingly went to the door and opened it.
She stood in the aperture, her head turned towards him enquiringly.
“Right. What do you see? A perfectly ordinary hallway, wants redecorating but it’s not worth having it done when I’m just off to Australia. Now go to the front door, open it, also no tricks about it. Go outside and down to the pavement and that will show you that you are perfectly free with no attempts to shut you up in any way. After that when you have satisfied yourself that you could walk out of this place at any minute you like, come back, sit in that comfortable chair over there and tell me all about yourself. After which I will give you my valuable advice. You needn’t take it,” he added consolingly. “People seldom do take advice, but you might as well have it. See? Agreed?” Norma got up slowly, she went a little shakily out of the room, out into — as the doctor had described — the perfectly ordinary hallway, opened the front door with a simple catch, down four steps and stood on the pavement in a street of decorous but rather uninteresting houses. She stood there a moment, unaware that she was being watched through a lace blind by Dr.
Stillingfleet himself. She stood there for about two minutes, then with a slightly more resolute bearing she turned, went up the steps again, shut the front door and came back into the room.
“All right?” said Dr. Stillingfleet. “Satisfy you there’s nothing up my sleeve? All clear and above board.5?
The girl nodded.
“Right. Sit down there. Make yourself comfortable. Do you smoke?” “Well, I — ” “Only reefers — something of that kind?
Never mind, you needn’t tell me.” “Of course I don’t take anything of that kind.” “I shouldn’t have said there was any ‘of course’ about it, but one must believe what the patient tells one. All right. Now tell me all about yourself.” “I — I don’t know. There’s nothing to tell really. Don’t you want me to lie down on a couch?” “Oh, you mean your memory of dreams and all that stuff? No, not particularly. I just like to get a background. You know.
You were born, you lived in the country or the town, you have brothers and sisters or you’re an only child and so on. When your own mother died, were you very upset by her death?” “Of course I was.” Norma sounded indignant.
“You’re much too fond of saying of course. Miss West. By the way. West isn’t really your name, is it? Oh, never mind, I don’t want to know any other one. Call yourself West or East or North or anything you like. Anyway, what went on after your mother died?” “She was an invalid for a long time before she died. In nursing homes a good deal. I stayed with an aunt, rather an old aunt, down in Devonshire. She wasn’t really an aunt, she was Mother’s first cousin. And then my father came home just about six months ago. It — it was wonderful.” Her face lighted up suddenly. She was unaware of the quick, shrewed glance the apparently casual young man shot at her. “I could hardly remember him, you know. He must have gone away when I was about five.
I didn’t really think I’d ever see him again. Mother didn’t very often talk about him. I think at first she hoped that he’d give up this other woman and come back.” “Other woman?” “Yes. He went away with someone. She was a very bad woman. Mother said.
Mother talked about her very bitterly and very bitterly about Father too, but I used to think that perhaps — perhaps Father wasn’t as bad as she thought, that it was all this woman’s fault.” “Did they marry?” “No. Mother said she would never divorce Father. She was a–is it an Anglican? — very High Church, you know. Rather like a Roman Catholic. She didn’t believe in divorce.” ^Did they go on living together? What was the woman’s name or is that a secret too?” “I don’t remember her last name.” Norma shook her head. “No, I don’t think they lived together long, but I don’t know much about it all, you see. They went to South Africa but I think they quarrelled and parted quite soon because that’s when Mother said she hoped Father might come back again. But he didn’t. He didn’t write even. Not even to me. But he sent me things at Christmas. Presents always.” “He was fond of you?” “I don’t know. How could I tell?