"Oh, don't you understand?" she said impatiently. "We're free - at last!
Don't you understand that Roger's been miserable - absolutely miserable - for years?
He never had any aptitude for business.
He likes things like horses and cows and pottering round in the country. But he adored his father - they all did.
That's what's wrong with this house - too much family.
I don't mean that the old man was a tyrant, or preyed upon them, or bullied them.
He didn't.
He gave them money and freedom. He was devoted to them.
And they kept on being devoted to him."
"Is there anything wrong in that?"
"I think there is.
I think, when your children have grown up, that you should cut away from them, efface yourself, slink away, force them to forget you."
"Force them?
That's rather drastic, isn't it?
Isn't coercion as bad one way as another?"
"If he hadn't made himself such a personality -"
"You can't make yourself a personality," I said.
"He was a personality."
"He was too much of a personality for Roger.
Roger worshipped him.
He wanted to do everything his father wanted him to do, he wanted to be the kind of son his father wanted.
And he couldn't.
His father made over Associated Catering to him - it was the old man's particular joy and pride, and Roger tried hard to carry on in his father's footsteps.
But he hadn't got that kind of ability.
In business matters Roger is - yes, I'll say it plainly - a fool.
And it nearly broke his heart.
He's been miserable for years, struggling, seeing the whole thing go down the hill, having sudden wonderful 'ideas' and 'schemes' which always went wrong and made it worse than ever.
It's a terrible thing to feel you're a failure year after year.
You don't know how unhappy he's been. I do."
Again she turned and faced me. "You thought, you actually suggested to the police, that Roger would have killed his father - for money!
You don't know how - how absolutely ridiculous that is!"
"I do know it now," I said humbly.
"When Roger knew he couldn't stave it off any more - that the crash was bound to come, he was actually relieved.
Yes, he was.
He worried about his father's knowing - but not about anything else.
He was looking forward to the new life we were going to live."
Her face quivered a little and her voice softened.
"Where were you going?" I asked.
"To Barbados.
A distant cousin of mine died a short time ago and left me a tiny estate out there - oh, nothing much.
But it was somewhere to go.
We'd have been desperately poor, but we'd have scratched a living - it costs very little just to live.
We'd have been together - unworried, away from them all." She sighed. "Roger is a ridiculous person.
He would worry about me - about my being poor.
I suppose he's got the Leonides attitude to money too firmly in his mind.
When my first husband was alive, we were terribly poor - and Roger thinks it was so brave and wonderful of me!
He doesn't realise that I was happy - really happy!
I've never been so happy since.
And yet - I never loved Richard as I love Roger."
Her eyes half-closed.