2

       'What always surprises me about your mother,' Sarah said, when they began to go over in bed the record of their day in the country, 'is that she accepts so easily the fact that Sam's your child. Does it never occur to her that he's very black to have a white father?'

       'She doesn't seem to notice shades.'

       'Mr Muller did. I'm sure of that.'

       Downstairs the telephone rang. It was nearly midnight. 'Oh hell,' Castle said, 'who would ring us at this hour? Your masked men again?'

       'Aren't you going to answer?'

       'The ringing stopped.'

       'If it's your masked men,' Castle said, 'we'll have a chance to catch them.'

       The telephone rang a second time. Castle looked at his watch.

       'For God's sake answer them.'

       'It's certain to be a wrong number.'

       'I'll answer it if you won't.'

       'Put on your dressing-gown. You'll catch cold.' But as soon as she got out of bed the telephone stopped ringing. 'It's sure to ring again,' Sarah said.

       'Don't you remember last month—three times at one o'clock in the morning?' But this time the telephone remained silent. There was a cry from across the passage.

       Sarah said, 'Damn them, they've woken up Sam. Whoever they are.'

       'I'll go to him. You're shivering. Get back into bed.'

       Sam asked, 'Was it burglars? Why didn't Buller bark?'

       'Buller knew better. There are no burglars, Sam. It was just a friend of  'Was it that Mr Muller?'

       'No. He's not a friend. Go to sleep. 'The telephone won't ring again.'

       'How do you know?'

       'I know.'

       'It rang more than once.'

       'Yes.'

       'But you never answered. So how do you know it was a friend?'

       'You ask too many questions, Sam.'

       'Was it a secret signal?'

       'Do you have secrets, Sam?'

       'Yes. Lots of them.'

       'Tell me one.'

       'I won't. It wouldn't be a secret if I told you.'

       'Well, I have my secrets too.'

       Sarah was still awake. 'He's all right now,' Castle said. 'He thought they were burglars ringing up.'

       'Perhaps they were. What did you tell him?'

       'Oh, I said they were secret signals.'

       'You always know how to calm him. You love him, don't you?'

       'Yes.'

       'It's strange. I never understand. I wish he were really your child.'

       'I don't wish it. You know that.'

       'I've never really understood why.'

       'I've told you many times. I see enough of myself every day when I shave.'

       'All you see is a kind man, darling.'

       'I wouldn't describe myself that way.'

       'For me a child of yours would have been something to live for when you are not there any more. You won't live forever.'

       'No, thank God for that.' He brought the words out without thinking and regretted having spoken them. It was her sympathy which always made him commit himself too far; however much he tried to harden himself he was tempted to tell her everything. Sometimes he compared her cynically with a clever interrogator who uses sympathy and a timely cigarette.

       Sarah said, 'I know you are worried. I wish you could tell me why—but I know you can't. Perhaps one day... when you are free...' She added sadly, 'If you are ever free, Maurice.'