Roy was rising. “I brought Jim back with me. He can’t stay at Middle Road—not as things are. Certainly not until the police get through with it. Dick has really no room for him in his shack. He didn’t want to come but I made him. Beadon Gates is the place for you, Jim, just now.” Jim said nothing. Aurelia said nothing. Jim was tired, too—his hair disheveled, his face white. Roy came to her and looked down, smiling. “Aurelia’s going to make us all go to bed. Good night, my dear. Happy dreams in spite of everything. None of this concerns you and me. Remember that and sleep.” He leaned over and kissed her, lightly, through the netting. Jim, in the doorway, took a step forward but whatever he meant to say to Roy was forestalled by Roy himself, for he turned toward Jim and said: “Jim, I’m going to give you some advice. Don’t tell the police any more about your quarrel with Hermione than you have to.
