A Fox Inside by David Stacton Page B

pretending to read a copy of Vogue. She had not bothered to take off her hat, but when she saw them come in she reached up and removed it, as though she had only just arrived, and put it on top of the furs, which were slightly ratty stone marten.
    “Where have you been?” she asked amiably, but there was always something insolent in that amiability and he did not miss it. Her attitude was that they had inconvenienced her by not being there to receive her. She had changed since early morning. There was no longer anything soft or uncertain about her.
    Maggie sat down in a chair slightly away from her mother. There was a sudden heavy calm about her that Luke did not like the look of. He stood by the mantelpiece , waiting to arbitrate.
    “We went to Bolinas,” he said. “I thought we’d better check up.”
    “That was foolish,” said Lily mildly. “She didn’t forget anything. She brought it in a bag. And as for the bag, we’ll say I burnt it, if it ever existed in the first place.” She glanced coldly at both of them.
    Luke caught her eye and saw very well that she knew exactly what she was doing. It seldom took her long to get back the upper hand.
    “I shouldn’t have come until it hit the papers,” shewent on. “But I thought you wouldn’t want to face the reporters alone.”
    “You shouldn’t have come at all,” said Maggie. Luke was startled. He had not known that she was as afraid of her mother as she sounded now. He tried to look reassuring , but he thought probably she was scared of him, too.
    “Somebody had to protect you,” said Lily.
    “Or you?” asked Maggie sharply.
    “If you wish it that way.” Lily smiled blandly, and though the rest of her face showed nothing, her eyes looked tight and observant and maybe a little hurt. She was good at getting people not to notice her eyes, unless she wanted to look angry. Luke always noticed them. That was no doubt one of many reasons why she didn’t like him. “We can’t afford publicity.”
    Luke thought, watching her, that she was apt to overdo the publicity. He wondered how she had come to think of herself as so important.
    “Luke can help me.” Maggie did not sound too convinced of it.
    Lily snorted.
    “I just want to be alone, Mother. Can’t you understand that?”
    Lily stopped playing with her hat and looked directly at her daughter. “It isn’t safe,” she said. “How am I to know what you might do?” Luke was not astute at the psychology of women, but he thought she was acting. She leaned forward, as though she did not want to have Luke see or hear her. It was a planned gesture. “I don’t like to have to watch you,” she said. “You know that.”
    “I know nothing of the sort.”
    “Yes, you do,” said Lily. Luke had heard that tone of utter sincerity before and had himself been tricked by it. For the moment Lily always believed what she was saying . That was what made her trickery so efficient, for there was self-deception in it, too, and it was that that took you off your guard.
    “Besides, you can be alone in your room, if you want to be alone. The house is big enough, God knows.” Lily looked round the room in search of some familiar object she apparently did not find. “I could never understand why Charles didn’t like flowers,” she said. “They’re so good for the nerves.”
    “Charles didn’t like anything,” said Maggie. It was said to annoy Lily, and Luke wondered why. It wasn’t the time to annoy anybody.
    Lily looked round the room again, perhaps hoping to find something of Charles in it. There wasn’t anything of Charles in it. “Luke can’t stay here, you know,” she said.
    “I’ll stay at the Fairmont and come over,” said Luke firmly. He wasn’t going to be beaten at whatever game it was she was playing.
    Lily smiled apologetically, which was her technique. “It wouldn’t look right with Charles scarcely dead.”
    “He isn’t buried yet,” said Luke. “I thought you got me up here to