It was very convincing—her willingness, that is. As for her credibility, Lieutenant Valcour retained reservations. He started along another divergence.
“Why have you kept Roberts so long in your employ, Mrs. Endicott, when you must have known how deeply she hates you?”
Mrs. Endicott smiled with frank amusement.
“You’ve never kept a maid, have you, Lieutenant?”
“Hardly.”
“Then you can’t appreciate fully what I mean when I say that Roberts is a good maid. What earthly difference does it make whether she hates or loves me? I’m hiring her services, not her emotions, and her services are excellent. I’ve frequently wished that someone in my successive chain of cooks would develop a similar passion. There’s something so binding about it.”
He felt that she was escaping him again, that her armour was swiftly undergoing repair. In the brightening light her face shone clearer. She didn’t seem quite such an enigma, after all. Nothing ever was, he reflected, truly enigmatic in daytime. It was just a tired face, wearied by any number of things other than the lack of sleep.
“I wish you would trust me, Mrs. Endicott,” he said. “I’m not a bad sort, really, and I’m not trying to trap you into admissions that would prove injurious to yourself. There are still confusions that have to be straightened out. I have been assured by Mr. Hollander that you were devoted to your husband. You personally imply that your interest in Mr. Hollander is purely that of a friend, and yet you address him in your notes as ‘Tom, darling.’ And there isn’t any question but that he worships you. The situation doesn’t fall under the heading of the eternal