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to Helen who, after examining the picture for a few moments, handed it to Tom.
    It was a small version of a studio portrait. A man sat in an armchair which was turned at a slight angle from the camera. He had a narrow face. Tom had the impression of very pale skin although that might have been the result of the studio lighting. It was difficult to get much of a sense of what he looked like because something had gone wrong with the exposure of the picture and everything appeared bleached. Nevertheless the man was smiling in welcome, as if to say: ‘Here I am. What is it that you require of me?’ His hands, resting limply on the arms of the chair, were long and the fingers adorned with rings.
    â€˜That is Mr Eustace Flask,’ said Mrs Scott. ‘You can see how besotted my sister is by the way she describes him in the letter which came with that photograph. She talks about his delicate complexion and his noble brow and piercing stare. She talks of the face of an angel in human guise. I can’t see any of it myself.’
    â€˜Why did she send you the picture?’ said Tom.
    â€˜She is like a young girl who has fallen in love for the first time and wishes all the world to see her sweetheart. Yet she is in her seventies!’
    â€˜What can we do?’ said Helen.
    â€˜It is no good my writing to Julia to object to what she’s doing. Whatever I said she would only take it as more proof that she is right. Tom, you’re a lawyer. Is there any way this man could be stopped? Could he be prosecuted?’
    Tom – who was always Tom and not Thomas to Mrs Scott when her guard was down – thought for a while. He said, ‘I don’t think so. As long as your sister Julia is in her right mind and provided she is not under any kind of duress, well, she is free to dispose of her property and goods as she wants. Do you know how much she has given him already?’
    â€˜Not so much, I believe. This Flask individual seems to be very clever in his approach. He turns down the money for a first time and then a second time before accepting it, with reluctance, only when Julia tells him it is a contribution for the cause. The cause of spiritualism. He pretends to deny himself. She feels sorry for him as if he really were her son. She tells him he must take care of himself and wrap up warmly and eat properly, he is so thin and careworn. He may be thin but he does not look careworn to me in that photograph. It is sickening, I tell you, to see how she is being duped. In her last letter she said that she was considering making Flask an allowance because her father had indicated that was an appropriate course of action. Her father, our father, speaking through Mr Flask!’
    â€˜Perhaps Aunt Julia will see the light,’ said Helen. ‘Perhaps she’ll suddenly see this man Flask for what he is.’
    â€˜Julia is too trusting. She still believes that the last one, the preacher with several wives, was essentially a good man tempted by Jezebels. I fear there is worse to come in this crisis. Her most recent letter, the one in which she enclosed the photograph so that I might admire her angelic medium, talked about her own failing health. She hinted she was not much longer for this vale of tears. If Julia is really in a weakened condition – although I must say that her handwriting was quite firm – then there’s no saying what mischief Flask might wreak.’
    â€˜You mean he might prevail on her to change the terms of her will.’
    â€˜That is exactly what I mean, Thomas. It is bad enough her giving out a few hundred pounds here and there but to think of her whole estate falling into this trickster’s hands . . . well, that is too terrible to contemplate. The shame for the family, not to mention Julia herself. No, there is only one hope . . .’
    â€˜What is that, mother?’
    â€˜I would like you and dear Thomas here to undertake a mission