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looked down at the empty glass and said aloud, "She's lying." His hand went out to the bottle again, and he was in the act of pouring himself out another brandy when the front-door bell rang.
    Who the hell could this be? Not Maclntyre already? He hoped not. He didn't want to be stuck with him until the others came back.
    When he opened the front door he saw standing there a man of medium height, dressed in a greatcoat and holding a hat in one hand and a small case in the other.
    "Yes?" His enquiry was not convivial.
    "I'm Aster."
    "Aster ... Oh, good lord ... come in, come in." He closed the door behind the man.
    "You weren't expected until one o'clock. Come by special train or something?"
    The man was looking slowly around the hall, and he' said with a laugh,
    "No, hardly that, but a friend of mine was driving this way and offered me a lift ... I took a taxi from yon side of the village."
    "A taxi? You were lucky. It's a wonder they came up this way with the snow lying.... Here, let me have your things. I'm the only one in, everybody's at church. I'm Spencer, Beatrice's husband. You might have found an empty house, only my little girl was sick excitement, you know. Up half the night waiting for her stocking ... I bet you could do with a drink."
    For the moment Gerald had pushed aside his own concerns. He was playing the host in a way he would never have done had Grace been in the house.
    He led the way across the hall.
    "In here ... now, what'll you have . ? Let's see." He stood in front of the cabinet, again a door in each hand.
    "We run to whisky, gin, rum, cherry brandy, brandy plain.
    Advocat. "
    "Oh, a whisky please, neat."
    "A whisky neat. A whisky it'll be."
    "What a remarkable place."
    "Eh? Oh this ... the house ... yes. And you've seen nothing yet."
    "Jane didn't tell me. I expected a vicarage ... you know, the usual kind."
    "Well, this is the vicarage, or was when the Reverend was alive.
    Anyway, it was used as such, but the real vicarage is at the other side of the village, near the garage . Oh, it's a long story. Jane will tell you some time, I suppose. Well, drink up. Cheers! "
    "Cheers."
    "Sit yourself down."
    "Thanks."
    Gerald took up his stand on the hearth rug and from his advantageous position he summed up the visitor. Well, all he could say was: he certainly wasn't much to look at. To hear Jane ramping on he had expected a six- footer at least and all that went with it. The fellow was no more than five foot five, tubby in fact, and looked his age. He might have the advantage on top . well, he needed it some place.
    But now it was up to him, he supposed, to keep the ball rolling until the others came in.
    During this process and the next half-hour the man learned a great deal about Gerald, and, becoming a little tired of the theme, he skilfully turned the conversation to the house and garden again.
    "You have some very fine trees here." He stood up and went to the window.
    "The willows are magnificent.... Ah-h! That's a lovely sight, isn't it?" He pointed to where a large willow, its lower branches borne down with snow, stood in the middle of the wide stretch of white sun-gleaming lawn.
    "Oh, that's nothing." Gerald came to his side.
    "Wait until you see those at the back."
    "It's a wonderful place ... wonderful."
    Gerald made no answer to this, for the remark dragged his mind back to his own affairs. Aye, it was wonderful, he'd say it was wonderful, and according to her it was for the market. He wished they were back; he must tell Beatrice about the way things had gone and damn all promises to the contrary. This fellow, he was finding, was heavy going. Had nothing to say except enthuse about the place. He was turning from the window when his companion's exclamation of "Good gracious!" brought him round again and he looked to where he was pointing to the path circling the lawn.
    "That man ... why, I know him ... don't tell me he lives here."
    "Maclntyre ... ? No ... well, not in this house. He lives over on