'Just what I say. I absolutely refuse to have you stirring up a lot of publicity about a foolish thing like this. You happen to have found a trick cat. O.K. - that's fine. Keep it, if it pleases you. I don't mind. But I don't wish you to go any further than that. Do you understand me, Louisa?'
'Further than what?'
'I don't want to hear any more of this crazy talk. You're acting like a lunatic.'
Louisa put the cat slowly down on the sofa. Then slowly she raised herself to her full small height and took one pace forward. 'Damn you, Edward!' she shouted, stamping her foot. 'For the first time in our lives something really exciting comes along and you're scared to death of having anything to do with it because someone may laugh at you! That's right, isn't it? You can't deny it, can you?'
'Louisa,' her husband said. 'That's quite enough of that. Pull yourself together now and stop this at once.' He walked over and took a cigarette from the box on the table, then lit it with the enormous patent lighter. His wife stood watching him, and now the tears were beginning to trickle out of the inside corners of her eyes, making two little shiny rivers where they ran through the powder on her cheeks.
'We've been having too many of these scenes just lately, Louisa,' he was saying. 'No no, don't interrupt. Listen to me. I make full allowance for the fact that this may be an awkward time of life for you, and that -'
'Oh, my God! You idiot! You pompous idiot! Can't you see that this is different, this is - this is something miraculous? Can't you see that?'
At that point, he came across the room and took her firmly by the shoulders. He had the freshly lit cigarette between his lips, and she could see faint contours on his skin where the heavy perspiration had dried in patches. 'Listen,' he said. 'I'm hungry. I've given up my golf and I've been working all day in the garden, and I'm tired and hungry and I want some supper. So do you. Off you go now to the kitchen and get us both something good to eat.'
Louisa stepped back and put both hands to her mouth. 'My heavens!' she cried. 'I forgot all about it. He must be absolutely famished. Except for some milk, I haven't given him a thing to eat since he arrived.'
'Who?'
'Why, him, of course. I must go at once and cook something really special. I wish I knew what his favourite dishes used to be. What do you think he would like best, Edward?'
'Goddamn it, Louisa!'
'Now, Edward, please. I'm going to handle this my way just for once. You stay here,' she said, bending down and touching the cat gently with her fingers. 'I won't be long.'
Louisa went into the kitchen and stood for a moment, wondering what special dish she might prepare. How about a souffle? A nice cheese souffle? Yes, that would be rather special. Of course, Edward didn't much care for them, but that couldn't be helped.
She was only a fair cook, and she couldn't be sure of always having a souffle come out well, but she took extra trouble this time and waited a long while to make certain the oven had heated fully to the correct temperature. While the souffle was baking and she was searching around for something to go with it, it occurred to her that Liszt had probably never in his life tasted either avocado pears or grapefruit, so she decided to give him both of them at once in a salad. It would be fun to watch his reaction. It really would.
When it was all ready, she put it on a tray and carried it into the living-room. At the exact moment she entered, she saw her husband coming in through the french windows from the garden.
'Here's his supper,' she said, putting it on the table and turning towards the sofa. 'Where is he?'
Her husband closed the garden door behind him and walked across the room to get himself a cigarette.
'Edward, where is he?'
'Who?'
'You know who.'
'Ah, yes. Yes, that's right. Well - I'll tell you.' He was bending forward to light the cigarette, and his hands were cupped around the enormous patent lighter. He glanced up and saw Louisa looking at him - at his shoes and the bottoms of his khaki slacks, which were damp from walking in long grass.
'I just went out to see how the bonfire was going,' he said.
Her eyes travelled slowly upward and rested on his hands.
'It's still burning fine,' he went on. 'I think it'll keep going all night.'
But the way she was staring made him uncomfortable.
'What is it?' he said, lowering the lighter. Then he looked down and noticed for the first time the long thin scratch that ran diagonally clear across the back of one hand, from the knuckle to the wrist.
'Edward!'
'Yes,' he said, 'I know. Those brambles are terrible. They tear you to pieces. Now, just a minute, Louisa. What's the matter?'
'Edward!'