Harold bathed himself and had a nap.
After dinner they talked long and quietly.
He admitted that before he married her he had occasionally drunk more than was good for him; in outstations it was easy to fall into bad habits.
He agreed to everything that Millicent asked.
And during the months before it was necessary for her to go to Kuala Solor for her confinement, Harold was an excellent husband, tender, thoughtful, proud, and affectionate; he was irreproachable.
A launch came to fetch her, she was to leave him for six weeks, and he promised faithfully to drink nothing during her absence.
He put his hands on her shoulders.
'I never break a promise,' he said in his dignified way.
'But even without it, can you imagine that while you are going through so much, I should do anything to increase your troubles?'
Joan was born.
Millicent stayed at the Resident's, and Mrs Gray, his wife, a kindly creature of middle age, was very good to her.
The two women had little to do during the long hours they were alone but to talk, and in course of time Millicent learnt everything there was to know of her husband's alcoholic past.
The fact which she found most difficult to reconcile herself to was that Harold had been told that the only condition upon which he would be allowed to keep his post was that he should bring back a wife.
It caused in her a dull feeling of resentment.
And when she discovered what a persistent drunkard he had been, she felt vaguely uneasy.
She had a horrid fear that during her absence he would not have been able to resist the craving.
She went home with her baby and a nurse.
She spent a night at the mouth of the river and sent a messenger in a canoe to announce her arrival.
She scanned the landing-stage anxiously as the launch approached it.
Harold and Mr Simpson were standing there.
The trim little soldiers were lined up.
Her heart sank, for Harold was swaying slightly, like a man who seeks to keep his balance on a rolling ship, and she knew he was drunk.
It wasn't a very pleasant home-coming.
She had almost forgotten her mother and father and her sister who sat there silently listening to her.
Now she roused herself and became once more aware of their presence. All that she spoke of seemed very far away.
'I knew that I hated him then,' she said.
'I could have killed him.'
'Oh, Millicent, don't say that,' cried her mother.
'Don't forget that he's dead, poor man.'
Millicent looked at her mother, and for a moment a scowl darkened her impassive face.
Mr Skinner moved uneasily.
'Go on,' said Kathleen.
'When he found out that I knew all about him he didn't bother very much more.
In three months he had another attack of D.T.s.'
'Why didn't you leave him?' said Kathleen.
'What would have been the good of that?
He would have been dismissed from the service in a fortnight.
Who was to keep me and Joan?
I had to stay.
And when he was sober I had nothing to complain of.
He wasn't in the least in love with me, but he was fond of me; I hadn't married him because I was in love with him, but because I wanted to be married.
I did everything I could to keep liquor from him; I managed to get Mr Gray to prevent whisky being sent from Kuala Solor, but he got it from the Chinese.
I watched him as a cat watches a mouse.
He was too cunning for me.
In a little while he had another outbreak.
He neglected his duties.
I was afraid complaints would be made.
We were two days from Kuala Solor and that was our safeguard, but I suppose something was said, for Mr Gray wrote a private letter of warning to me.
I showed it to Harold.
He stormed and blustered, but I saw he was frightened, and for two or three months he was quite sober.