I wrote and told her, and so did Maxim.
She was so interested in the wedding abroad.'
'You forget how old she is,' I said.
'Why should she remember that?
She doesn't connect me with Maxim.
She only connects him with Rebecca.'
We went on driving in silence.
It was a relief to be in the car again.
I did not mind the jerky motion and the swaying corners.
'I'd forgotten she was so fond of Rebecca,' said Beatrice slowly,
'I was a fool not to expect something like this.
I don't believe she ever took it in properly about the accident.
Oh, Lord, what a ghastly afternoon.
What on earth will you think of me?'
'Please, Beatrice, don't.
I tell you I don't mind.'
'Rebecca made a great fuss of her always.
And she used to have the old lady over to Manderley.
Poor darling Gran was much more alert then.
She used to rock with laughter at whatever Rebecca said.
Of course she was always very amusing, and the old lady loved that.
She had an amazing gift, Rebecca I mean, of being attractive to people; men, women, children, dogs.
I suppose the old lady has never forgotten her.
My dear, you won't thank me for this afternoon.'
'I don't mind, I don't mind,' I repeated mechanically.
If only Beatrice could leave the subject alone.
It did not interest me.
What did it matter after all?
What did anything matter?
'Giles will be very upset,' said Beatrice.
'He will blame me for taking you over.
"What an idiotic thing to do, Bee." I can hear him saying it.
I shall get into a fine row.'
'Don't say anything about it,' I said.
'I would much rather it was forgotten.
The story will only get repeated and exaggerated.'
'Giles will know something is wrong from my face.
I never have been able to hide anything from him.'
I was silent.
I knew how the story would be tossed about in their immediate circle of friends.
I could imagine the little crowd at Sunday lunch.
The round eyes, the eager ears, and the gasps and exclamations —
'My Lord, how awful, what on earth did you do?' and then,
'How did she take it?
How terribly embarrassing for everyone!'
The only thing that mattered to me was that Maxim should never come to hear of it.
One day I might tell Frank Crawley, but not yet, not for quite a while.
It was not long before we came to the high road at the top of the hill.
In the distance I could see the first grey roofs of Kerrith, while to the right, in a hollow, lay the deep woods of Manderley and the sea beyond.
'Are you in a frightful hurry to get home?' said Beatrice.