I swear it."
"When I know what's the right thing to do," said Clare, "I'll let you know."
She got up.
Vivien went out of the house in a furtive, slinking way, glancing back over her shoulder.
Clare wrinkled her nose in disgust.
A beastly affair.
Would Vivien keep her promise not to see Cyril?
Probably not.
She was weak - rotten all through.
That afternoon Clare went for a long walk.
There was a path which led along the downs.
On the left the green hills sloped gently down to the sea far below, while the path wound steadily upward.
This walk was known locally as the Edge.
Though safe enough if you kept to the path, it was dangerous to wander from it.
Those insidious gentle slopes were dangerous.
Clare had lost a dog there once.
The animal had gone racing over the smooth grass, gaining momentum, had been unable to stop and had gone over the edge of the cliff to be dashed to pieces on the sharp rocks below.
The afternoon was clear and beautiful.
From far below there came the ripple of the sea, a soothing murmur.
Clare sat down on the short green turf and stared out over the blue water.
She must face this thing clearly.
What did she mean to do?
She thought of Vivien with a kind of disgust.
How the girl had crumpled up, how abjectly she had surrendered!
Clare felt a rising contempt.
She had no pluck - no grit.
Nevertheless, much as she disliked Vivien, Clare decided that she would continue to spare her for the present.
When she got home she wrote a note to her, saying that although she could make no definite promise for the future, she had decided to keep silence for the present.
Life went on much the same in Daymer's End.
It was noticed locally that Lady Lee was looking far from well.
On the other hand, Clare Halliwell bloomed.
Her eyes were brighter, she carried her head higher, and there was a new confidence and assurance in her manner.
She and Lady Lee often met, and it was noticed on these occasions that the younger woman watched the older with a flattering attention to her slightest word.
Sometimes Miss Halliwell would make remarks that seemed a little ambiguous - not entirely relevant to the matter at hand.
She would suddenly say that she had changed her mind about many things lately - that it was curious how a little thing might alter entirely one's point of view.
One was apt to give way too much to pity - and that was really quite wrong.
When she said things of that kind she usually looked at Lady Lee in a peculiar way, and the latter would suddenly grow quite white, and look almost terrified.
But as the year drew on, these little subtleties became less apparent.
Clare continued to make the same remarks, but Lady Lee seemed less affected by them.
She began to recover her looks and spirits.
Her old gay manner returned.
One morning, when she was taking her dog for a walk, Clare met Gerald in a lane.
The latter's spaniel fraternized with Rover, while his master talked to Clare.
"Heard our news?" he said buoyantly. "I expect Vivien's told you."
"What sort of news?
Vivien hasn't mentioned anything in particular."
"We're going abroad - for a year - perhaps longer.
Vivien's fed up with this place.
She never has cared for it, you know." He sighed; for a moment or two he looked downcast.
Gerald Lee was very proud of his home. "Anyway, I've promised her a change.