Chapter IX

“This is a terrible thing,” he said, the moment we got out into the

street.

I realised that he had come away with me in order to discuss once more

what he had been already discussing for hours with his sister-in-law.

“We don’t know who the woman is, you know,” he said. “All we know is

that the blackguard’s gone to Paris.”

“I thought they got on so well.”

“So they did. Why, just before you came in Amy said they’d never had a

quarrel in the whole of their married life. You know Amy. There never

was a better woman in the world.”

Since these confidences were thrust on me, I saw no harm in asking a

few questions.

“But do you mean to say she suspected nothing?”

“Nothing. He spent August with her and the children in Norfolk. He was

just the same as he’d always been. We went down for two or three days,

my wife and I, and I played golf with him. He came back to town in

September to let his partner go away, and Amy stayed on in the country.

They’d taken a house for six weeks, and at the end of her tenancy she

wrote to tell him on which day she was arriving in London. He answered

from Paris. He said he’d made up his mind not to live with her any

more.”

“What explanation did he give?”

“My dear fellow, he gave no explanation. I’ve seen the letter. It

wasn’t more than ten lines.”

“But that’s extraordinary.”

We happened then to cross the street, and the traffic prevented us from

speaking. What Colonel MacAndrew had told me seemed very improbable,

and I suspected that Mrs. Strickland, for reasons of her own, had

concealed from him some part of the facts. It was clear that a man

after seventeen years of wedlock did not leave his wife without certain

occurrences which must have led her to suspect that all was not well

with their married life. The Colonel caught me up.

“Of course, there was no explanation he could give except that he’d

gone off with a woman. I suppose he thought she could find that out for

herself. That’s the sort of chap he was.”

“What is Mrs. Strickland going to do?”

“Well, the first thing is to get our proofs. I’m going over to Paris

myself.”

“And what about his business?”

“That’s where he’s been so artful. He’s been drawing in his horns for

the last year.”

“Did he tell his partner he was leaving?”

“Not a word.”

Colonel MacAndrew had a very sketchy knowledge of business matters, and

I had none at all, so I did not quite understand under what conditions

Strickland had left his affairs. I gathered that the deserted partner

was very angry and threatened proceedings. It appeared that when

everything was settled he would be four or five hundred pounds out of

pocket.

“It’s lucky the furniture in the flat is in Amy’s name. She’ll have

that at all events.”

“Did you mean it when you said she wouldn’t have a bob?”

“Of course I did. She’s got two or three hundred pounds and the

furniture.”

“But how is she going to live?”

“God knows.”

The affair seemed to grow more complicated, and the Colonel, with his

expletives and his indignation, confused rather than informed me. I was

glad that, catching sight of the clock at the Army and Navy Stores, he

remembered an engagement to play cards at his club, and so left me to

cut across St. James Park.

The Moon and Sixpence · 第 9 / 58 章