Dance to Your Daddy

'Will you call me Binnie?' the dumb blonde asked, as they went side by side up the splendid stair.

'With pleasure, my dear.'

'What's the matter with the patient? Why is she in your room? What did Uncle Romilly mean about secrets? Do you think I could get a divorce? Of course, it would ruin Humphrey's career, and I love him really, and I haven't any money of my own, so perhaps I'd better not try.'

'The patient is suffering from slight melancholia brought about by the circumstances in which she finds herself. She is not in my room, but I shall send for her. Your Uncle Romilly thinks her condition is worse than it is, and so he wishes my work here to be kept secret except, of course, from himself and his housekeeper. I do not know whether you could get a divorce, although, if you did, you could claim alimony from your husband, if you had right on your side.'

'Do you mean I could get money without having to work for it? That would be very nice, wouldn't it? I'd like to model clothes, but you need brains for that, and Humphrey is always telling me I haven't any.'

'There is no need for you to believe him, is there?'

'Do you know why we've come?'

'I thought it was to join in a family gathering.'

'No, not quite. Uncle Romilly has made all sorts of promises to make sure we came along. He has promised Humphrey a headship. There's an interview. But what would Humphrey do with a wife like me? I wouldn't know what to say to the parents, and, of course, I'd have to have better clothes. Humphrey is dreadfully mean about clothes. Just look at the rags I'm wearing!'

'I think you look very nice, and, of course, as you pointed out to us, his salary may not be large.'

'I don't know what it is. He never tells me.'

Dame Beatrice opened the door of her room to find that Rosamund had already installed herself in it. She gravely introduced the two girls.

'Oh, we've met once before,' said Binnie. 'You're not the patient, are you? I'm prettier than you, but I expect you've more brains than I have. How oddly you dress! Do you like dressing up? I did, when I was a little girl.'

'So you do now,' said Dame Beatrice. 'Didn't you tell me you wanted to model clothes?'

'I wish you'd show me your clothes, and let me try them on,' said Rosamund quickly to Binnie. She was wearing Joan of Arc's armour again. 'Could we go to your room?'

'No, you cannot go now,' said Dame Beatrice. 'We are to have our session at once, instead of after tea.'

'I love my tea,' said Binnie, 'and I can see that Rosamund is quite as well as I am. I think I'll go downstairs.'

She left them. Rosamund said:

'Is she quite all there?'

Dame Beatrice did not reply. She scribbled a few words in her notebook and handed it over. Rosamund read the sentences she had written and nodded intelligently.

'War,' said Dame Beatrice, loudly.

'And peace,' said Rosamund automatically.

'Peace-makers.'

'Pace-makers. People who help people to win races.'

'Race-antagonism.'

'There was a young lady named Starkey...'

'That, surely, was fusion, not antagonism. Let us begin again.'

They played out the farce until the sound of a door being shut told Dame Beatrice what she wanted to know.

'I'll go now,' said Rosamund, who had heard it, too.

'Do not attempt to do what you had thought of, even if Binnie lends you some clothes,' said Dame Beatrice.

'Very well. I see you know what it was.'

'It was obvious, of course. But that is not the way.'

'You mean I should be found and brought back?'

'I could not prevent it, at this stage. Have a little patience. Why has Romilly invited all these people here?'

There was a tap at the door.

'So sorry to intrude,' said Romilly. He went over to Rosamund, who shrank back as he approached her. 'I think you had better do as you suggested just now, my dear,' he said. 'Make yourself scarce. You may join the others downstairs, if you wish to do so, but you must behave yourself, mind. No nonsense and no tantrums, and you are to pay no attention to anything Tancred may say to you. You know which one is Tancred. You met him the last time he came. He will flatter you, maybe, and talk all kinds of nonsense about his poetry, but it is all meaningless. Do you understand me?'

'Yes,' said Rosamund sullenly, 'but I don't want to go downstairs. I like it here with Professor Adler.'

'Yes, my dear, I am sure you do, but I wish to speak with her in private, so run along, there's a good child. If you ask Amabel, she will give you some lemon drops. You like lemon drops, don't you?'

With obvious unwillingness, Rosamund left them. There was silence until she had closed the door. Then Dame Beatrice said:

'This is an intrusion, you know. I do not care to have my sessions interrupted.'

'I am sorry about the interruption, but, with all these people in the house, I had to find a way of seeing you alone.'

'For any particular reason?'

'For one thing, I need to know why you dislike me. I suppose there is a connection with Trilby. I ought to have stressed that she is a pathological liar, but I am certain you have far too much experience of these cases to be taken in by her. She was planning to run away again, was she?'

'How did you know that?'

'I did not know it. I made a guess that it would be the first thing over which she would attempt to enlist your aid.'

'Did you also guess that I should refuse it?'

'I gave you credit, of course, for ordinary common sense.'

'I think you have been eavesdropping, you know. You overheard our conversation, did you not?'

'My dear Beatrice!'

'It would be rather naive of you to deny it. I have found the hole in the wall, as I thought I had sufficiently indicated.'

'I simply do not understand you!'

'Do you not?'

'The hole in the wall? Whatever can you mean?'

'If you will take the trouble to remove the picture of those two young men, you will see for yourself what I mean, and then perhaps we shall both know where we stand.'

'Remove the picture?' He stepped across the room. 'You mean there is a hole in the wall which is being covered by it?'

'You may satisfy yourself that that is so.'

Romilly studied the picture before he took it down. His surprise, when he did so, was either genuine or remarkably well simulated. He put the picture on the floor with its face against the wall and stared at the foot-wide squint. He ejaculated, as he turned and met the sharp black eyes of his guest:

'Good gracious me! Who would ever think of such a thing!'

'Most people would recognise this as a house of secrets, I think. Perhaps the hole was there when it was built.'

'I see that you have a suspicious mind.'

'It is a feature of my profession.'

'Ah, yes, of course. Of both your professions, perhaps. Beatrice, I did not only bring you here to examine Trilby. My life is threatened.'

'By whom?'

'I don't know. The would-be murderer may be one of my guests. I want you to spot the guilty party. That is one reason why I invited you.'

'Since your demise has not yet been accomplished, there can be no guilty party.'

'Guilty by intent, I mean, of course. You will be wondering how I know that I am in danger. I will tell you. One of these visitors must, I think, be my own child. Which one I do not know, but, whichever it is, that one will attempt to kill me.'

'What makes you think so?'

A gipsy warned me.'

'Really, now!'

'Oh, I take it seriously, I assure you.'

'Well, I am sorry, but I have not the slightest intention of following that example. If you mean what you say, why have you invited them here?'

'To get the matter settled once and for all, and I need your expert help. As a psychiatrist...'