‘If you’d seen her that night when I first went to the Grange!’ he said. ‘She was crazy with fear – and I tell you, Frankie, she’s right. It’s not nerves or imagination, or anything like that. If Nicholson wants to marry Sylvia Bassingtonffrench, two obstacles have got to go. One’s gone. I’ve a feeling that Moira’s life is hanging by a hair and that any delay may be fatal.’ Frankie was sobered by the eamestness of his words.
‘My dear, you’re right,’ she said. ‘We must act quickly.
What shall we do?’ ‘We must persuade her to leave the Grange – at once.’ Frankie nodded.
‘I tell you what,’ she said. ‘She’d better go down to Wales to the Castle. Heaven knows, she ought to be safe enough there.’ ‘If you can fix that, Frankie, nothing could be better.’ ‘Well, it’s simple enough. Father never notices who goes or comes. He’ll like Moira – nearly any man would – she’s so feminine. It’s extraordinary how men like helpless women.’ ‘I don’t think Moira is particularly helpless,’ said Bobby.
‘Nonsense. She’s like a little bird that sits and waits to be eaten by a snake without doing anything about it.’ ‘What could she do?’ ‘Heaps of things,’ said Frankie vigorously.
‘Well, I don’t see it. She’s got no money, no friends ‘ ‘My dear, don’t drone on as though you were recommending a case to the Girls’ Friendly Society.’ ‘Sorry,’ said Bobby.
There was an offended pause.
‘Well,’ said Frankie, recovering her temper. ‘As you were. I think we’d better get on to this business as soon as possible.’ ‘So do I,’ said Bobby. ‘Really, Frankie, it’s awfully decent of you to -‘ ‘That’s all right,’ said Frankie interrupting him. ‘I don’t mind befriending the girl so long as you don’t drivel on about her as though she had no hands or feet or tongue or brains.’ ‘I simply don’t know what you mean,’ said Bobby.
‘Well, we needn’t talk about it,’ said Frankie. ‘Now, my idea is that whatever we’re going to do we’d better do it quickly. Is that a quotation?’ ‘It’s a paraphrase of one. Go on. Lady Macbeth.’ ‘You know, I’ve always thought,’ said Frankie, suddenly digressing wildly from the matter in hand, ‘that Lady Macbeth incited Macbeth to do all those murders simply and solely because she was so frightfully bored with life – and incidentally with Macbeth. I’m sure he was one of those meek, inoffensive men who drive their wives distracted with boredom. But, having once committed a murder for the first time in his life, he felt the hell of a fine fellow and began to develop ego mania as a compensation for his former inferiority complex.’ ‘You ought to write a book on the subject, Frankie.’ ‘I can’t spell. Now, where were we? Oh, yes, rescue of Moira. You’d better bring the car round at half-past ten. I’ll drive over to the Grange, ask for Moira and, if Nicholson’s there when I see her, I’ll remind her of her promise to come and stay with me and carry her off then and there.’ ‘Excellent, Frankie. I’m glad we’re not going to waste any time. I’ve a horror of another accident happening.’ ‘Half-past ten, then,’ said Frankie.
By the time she got back to Merroway Court, it was half-past nine. Breakfast had just been brought in and Roger was pouring himself out some coffee. He looked ill and worn.
‘Good morning,’ said Frankie. ‘I slept awfully badly. In the end I got up about seven and went for a walk.’ ‘I’m frightfully sorry you should have been let in for all this worry,’ said Roger.
‘How’s Sylvia?’ ‘They gave her an opiate last night. She’s still asleep, I believe. Poor girl, I’m most terribly sorry for her. She was simply devoted to Henry.’ ‘I know.’ Frankie paused and then explained her plans for departure.
‘I suppose you’ll have to go,’ said Roger resentfully. ‘The inquest’s on Friday. I’ll let you know if you’re wanted for it. It all depends on the coroner.’ He swallowed a cup of coffee and a piece of toast and then went off to attend to the many things requiring his attention.