"Probably not. As to Patricia's real parents, all I know is that they are dead. Miss Mary Foster took in her niece at a very early age. She ran a boardinghouse in Charlotte Amalie."
"No wonder Patricia longs for gaiety," Lyon said.
"Do you think she is happy with Daniel, Father?"
Lucien paused a moment and plucked a hibiscus. "It was your mother's favorite, Diana," he said. He looked from his daughter to Lyon. "I would have said she was happy as a clam with Daniel, but after what you told me about seeing her with GraingerWell, who knows?"
"Grainger admitted he was with her, but said it was nothing. He was extremely upset."
"I've never known Grainger to lie, and I've known him many years."
"Do you think it's possible that Daniel knows of his wife seeing Grainger?"
"I've said nothing. One hesitates to hurt Daniel, you know."
"Yes, we know," said Lyon.
"Such a large, self-sufficient man. And yet"
"Yes," Diana said. "An
d yet."
26
By now you will have discovered that women too can be militant.
—SOPHOCLES
"Look, Patricia, it is time you and I stopped our infernal arguments. I know you dislike me, and that is your prerogative, but I am afraid. Please, let us talk for a moment."
Patricia regarded Diana from beneath her blue silk parasol. When Diana had come up behind her, she'd known an awful moment of sheer terror. Oh, yes, she was afraid too. She drew a deep breath, calming herself. "What do you want to talk about?"
"About you and Grainger."
Patricia went white.
"I will tell you the truth, Patricia, for there is no more time left to us to keep silent because of each other's sensibilities. Lyon saw you just before dawn one morning, with Grainger. Lyon and I spoke to him. He's very upset, more upset than I've ever seen him, but he swore he wasn't your lover."
Patricia just stared at Diana. Then, suddenly, frighteningly, she laughed. And laughed. "Oh, it is too much! You believe that Grainger and IIt is too much!"
She snapped her parasol closed.
"What do you mean? Then why were you with him? And in such secrecy?"
"Mind your own business, Diana. It has nothing to do with anything. Oh, God!"
"Patricia, please. Two people have been killed. I know that you know things that you haven't told. It cannot go on. You must tell the truth."
"The truth," Patricia repeated softly, looking toward the sea. "The truth is a strange monster, isn't it, Diana? One thinks one knows the truth, but then it seems to change and fade and slip through one's fingers. I don't know any truth that would make sense to anyone." She faced Diana, her shoulders drawn back.
Diana felt a brief surge of respect for her. "What do you mean that truth is a strange monster? Monster?"
"I meant nothing."
"Do you love Daniel?"
Patricia sucked in her breath. She said nothing, but her fingers were tearing at the lace on the parasol.