Had Stephanie made such a remark the day before, Robbie just might have plucked up the courage to break the ice by saying: 'How 1 wish we were.' But now he could think only of the horrible deception she was practising upon him. The letter, which seemed to be burning a hole in his pocket, proved beyond any shadow of doubt that she was only waiting for the chance to betray him into the hands of his enemies. He thought of Jael, who had driven a tent-peg through Sisera's head only an hour or two after she had slept with him; of Delilah who had cut off Samson's hair and so sent him to be slaughtered. That sweetly smiling, gentle-seeming creatures could calmly carry out such acts of treachery upon men who loved them seemed unbelievable; yet history provided scores of examples of such betrayals, and there seemed no escaping the fact that Stephanie was just one more of that hideous breed.
When they had covered another few hundred yards, she glanced at him and said: 'Why are you so silent this morning, Robbie? Aren't you feeling well?'
'I'm all right,' he managed to reply. 'I had rather a bad night, but I'll feel better when I've had a swim.'
Reassured about him, she went on to suggest that next day they should cut out their bathe and run down to Phygalia and Theatron where, she had learned from a folder in the hotel, there were some interesting ruins.
He said he thought that was a good idea, and they would talk about it over lunch. But it brought home to him more sharply than ever that there could be no such next day. Those runs in the car and jolly picnics while he told her stories of the ancient Greeks were over for ever. The sweet companionship with her that he had enjoyed more than anything in his whole life was a thing of the past, and only bitter loneliness lay ahead.
His thoughts then turned to another case of woman's treachery that was for him nearer home. The city of Megara had once been besieged by Minos, King of Crete. The siege was long; so Scylla, the daughter of Megara's King, Nisus, often saw from the battlements Minos in his shining armour and fell in love with him. Her father had one lock of purple hair, and he confided to her that an Oracle had predicted that the city would never be taken unless he was shorn of this lock.
Scylla's passion for Minos became so great that one night she crept into her father's chamber and cut off the lock. Then she secretly left the city, made her way to Minos's tent and offered him the strand of purple hair, with her undying love.
Minos, being a chivalrous King, refused to take it, gave King Nisus honourable terms and spurned Scylla, telling her that he would not demean himself by having anything to do with a woman capable of betraying her country.
For a moment, Robbie imagined himself in the place of Minos. He thought of the satisfaction he would derive from having Stephanie clinging to his knees and beseeching him to make love to her, then breaking her evil heart by haughtily thrusting her from him.
But the cases were not parallel. Stephanie did not love him. She had exerted all her charm and woman's guile on him only to lead him to confide in her; so that she could pass on his intentions to unscrupulous men who, it seemed, were now prepared to go even to the length of killing him. Far, far from loving him, she probably despised him for not even having had the courage to make a pass at her, when for these past weeks she had been in such a situation that, if she were to keep her job with her employers, she would have been put in a spot had she shown her resentment at his attentions.
It then struck Robbie that Minos had behaved like a fool. It was said that Scylla had been a very beautiful girl. Why, before throwing her out, had he not had the sense to enjoy himself with her? The humiliation earned her by her treachery would afterwards have been all the greater.
Robbie took a swift, sideways glance at Stephanie. There she was, in height barely up to his shoulder. But a fine, strong, square-shouldered little figure with a beautiful bust and broad hips that curved gracefully away under the thin skirt she was wearing to legs having perfect proportions.
'Why not?' he thought. 'Why not? It would give her something to remember me by. It would teach her a lesson for life; that even poor simple devils like myself are not to be trifled with.'
By that time they had reached their pool. With a smile over her shoulder, Stephanie disappeared into the clump of bushes behind which she always changed into her bathing things. Robbie went behind another clump some ten yards distant. His mind in a ferment, he tore off his clothes, but did not put on his swimming trunks. For a few minutes he stood there with his heart throbbing wildly. He could feel it beating like a hammer under his ribs. From experience gained during their previous bathes he knew how long Stephanie took to get undressed. Imbued with inflexible purpose, he suddenly strode towards the other clump of bushes.
At a glance, he saw that he had timed things perfectly. Stephanie had fastened on her white satin top but was only in the act of stepping into her bathing skirt.
The sound of his approaching footsteps crunching twigs and dead leaves caused her to look up. As she saw him advancing on her, she uttered a low cry, tripped on the garment into which she had put one foot, and staggered sideways. Next moment he was upon her.
With one hand he ripped the bikini-top from her breasts; the other hand he flung round her waist. Her blue eyes, distended by shock and fright, stared into his. Jerking herself backward, she attempted to break away from him, but his grip on her waist was firm. With a sudden movement, he drew her to him, forcing her body against his. Then his head came downward and his mouth fastened greedily upon hers. She wrenched her face sideways, but his devouring lips fastened on her neck below the chin. Another moment, and one of his legs had curled round hers. Under the pressure, her knees gave and she fell backward. Robbie came down on top of her, temporarily driving the breath from her body.
'No, Robbie, no!' she managed to gasp. 'Not like this!' Then she suddenly relaxed, gave a little moan, and offered no further resistance.
In less than a minute it was all over. At one moment he had been smothering her face with kisses, the next he had thrust himself away from her and was up on his knees. Sobbing for breath, he lurched to his feet and staggered away towards the bushes where he had left his clothes.
As he collapsed beside them, he was conscious of bitter disappointment. Apart from the softness of her lips under that first, snatched kiss and the delicious feeling of her warm, satinlike skin against his, seizing her like that had given him no pleasure.
Then, within a few moments, a reaction set in to the urge he had felt. Because she had turned out to be a secret agent that was no justification for treating her as though she were a whore. She was unmarried and had never given him the least reason to suppose that she was unchaste. However much she had lied to him had still given him no right to punish her by abusing her physically. It had been a swinish thing to do, and the very antithesis of the conduct of the paladins of chivalry, whom he had for so long admired.
Yet what was done was done. There could be no going back and seeking explanations. That, at least, he knew would have been futile, for there was no possible explanation by which she could have put herself right with him. She had been proved up to the hilt to be a whited sepulchre; fair-seeming without, but rotten as carrion within. There had had to be an end between them, and that it should have been in this fierce, vengeful way was, perhaps, the will of the ancient gods.