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His wife said clearly and distinctly: ‘I am not at all fond of him.’

‘Lydia, it distresses me to hear you say things like that. It is so unkind – ’

‘Perhaps. But sometimes a compulsion comes over one to speak the truth.’

‘If Father guessed – ’

‘Your father knows perfectly well that I do not like him! It amuses him, I think.’

‘Really, Lydia, I am sure you are wrong there. He has often told me how charming your manner to him is.’

‘Naturally I’ve always been polite. I always shall be. I’m just letting you know what my real feelings are. I dislike your father, Alfred. I think he is a malicious and tyrannical old man. He bullies you and presumes on your affection for him. You ought to have stood up to him years ago.’

Alfred said sharply: ‘That will do, Lydia. Please don’t say any more.’

She sighed.‘I’m sorry. Perhaps I was wrong… Let’s talk of our Christmas arrangements. Do you think your brother David will really come?’

‘Why not?’

She shook her head doubtfully. ‘David is – queer. He’s not been inside the house for years, remember. He was so devoted to your mother – he’s got some feeling about this place.’

‘David always got on Father’s nerves,’ said Alfred, ‘with his music and his dreamy ways. Father was, perhaps, a bit hard on him sometimes. But I think David and Hilda will come all right. Christmas time, you know.’

‘Peace and goodwill,’ said Lydia. Her delicate mouth curved ironically. ‘I wonder! George and Magdalene are coming. They said they would probably arrive tomorrow. I’m afraid Magdalene will be frightfully bored.’

Alfred said with some slight annoyance: ‘Why my brother George ever married a girl twenty years younger than himself I can’t think! George was always a fool!’

‘He’s very successful in his career,’ said Lydia. ‘His constituents like him. I believe Magdalene works quite hard politically for him.’

Alfred said slowly: ‘I don’t think I like her very much. She is very good-looking – but I sometimes think she is like one of those beautiful pears one gets – they have a rosy flush and a rather waxen appearance – ’ He shook his head.

‘And they’re bad inside?’ said Lydia. ‘How funny you should say that, Alfred!’

‘Why funny?’

She answered: ‘Because – usually – you are such a gentle soul. You hardly ever say an unkind thing about anyone. I get annoyed with you sometimes because you’re not sufficiently – oh, what shall I say? – sufficiently suspicious – not worldly enough!’

Her husband smiled. ‘The world, I always think, is as you yourself make it.’

Lydia said sharply: ‘No! Evil is not only in one’s mind. Evil exists! You seem to have no consciousness of the evil in the world. I have. I can feel it. I’ve always felt it – here in this house – ’ She bit her lip and turned away.

Alfred said, ‘Lydia – ’

But she raised a quick admonitory hand, her eyes looking past him at something over his shoulder. Alfred turned.

A dark man with a smooth face was standing there deferentially.

Lydia said sharply: ‘What is it, Horbury?’