by Mark Place
“I shall lay my conclusions before the necessary people. If they decide there is the possibility of making out a case against you, then they may act. I will tell you in my opinion there is not sufficient evidence – there are only inferences, not facts. Moreover, they will not be anxious to proceed against anyone in your position unless there is ample justification for such a course.”
“I shouldn’t care,” Elsa said. “If I were standing in the dock, fighting for my life, there might be something in that - something alive - exciting. I might - enjoy it.”
“Your husband would not.”
“Do you think I care in the least what my husband would feel?”
“No, I do not. I do not think you have ever in your life cared about what any other person would feel. If you had, you might be happier.”
She said sharply, ” Why are you sorry for me?”
“Because, my child, you have so much to learn.”
“What have I got to learn?”
“All the grownup emotions - pity, sympathy, understanding. The only things you know - have ever known - are love and hate.”
Elsa said: “I saw Caroline take the coniine. I thought she meant to kill herself. That would have simplified things. And then, the next morning, I found out. He told her that he didn’t care a button about me - he had cared, but it was all over. Once he’d finished the picture he’d send me packing. She’d nothing to worry about, he said. And she - was sorry for me… Do you understand what that did to me? I found the stuff and I gave it to him and I sat there watching him die. I’ve never felt so alive, so exultant, so full of power. I watched him die…”
She flung out her hands. “I didn’t understand that I was killing myself - not him. Afterward I saw her caught in a trap - and that was no good, either. I couldn’t hurt her - she didn’t care - she escaped from it all - half the time she wasn’t there. She and Amyas both escaped - they went somewhere where I couldn’t get at them. But they didn’t die. I died.” Elsa Dittisham got up. She went across to the door. She said again, “I died…”
In the hall she passed two young people whose life together was just beginning. The chauffeur held open the door of the car. Lady Dittisham got in, and the chauffeur wrapped the fur rug around her knees.
