While the Light Lasts by Agatha Christie Page A

breath,’ she said apologetically. ‘It’s a steep pull up here.’
    â€˜Damn you!’ cried Vivien shrilly. ‘Why can’t you say it, you smooth-faced devil, instead of torturing me?’
    Clare looked shocked, and Vivien hastily recanted.
    â€˜I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry, Clare. I am indeed. Only–my nerves are all to pieces, and your sitting here and talking about the weather–well, it got me all rattled.’
    â€˜You’ll have a nervous breakdown if you’re not careful,’ said Clare coldly.
    Vivien gave a short laugh.
    â€˜Go over the edge? No–I’m not that kind. I’ll never be a loony. Now tell me–what’s all this about?’
    Clare was silent for a moment, then she spoke, looking not at Vivien, but steadily out over the sea.
    â€˜I thought it only fair to warn you that I can no longer keep silence about–about what happened last year.’
    â€˜You mean–you’ll go to Gerald with the whole story?’
    â€˜Unless you’ll tell him yourself. That would be infinitely the better way.’
    Vivien laughed sharply.
    â€˜You know well enough I haven’t got the pluck to do that.’
    Clare did not contradict the assertion. She had had proof before of Vivien’s utterly craven temper.
    â€˜It would be infinitely better,’ she repeated.
    Again Vivien gave that short, ugly laugh.
    â€˜It’s your precious conscience, I suppose, that drives you to do this?’ she sneered.
    â€˜I dare say it seems very strange to you,’ said Clare quietly. ‘But it honestly is that.’
    Vivien’s white, set face stared into hers.
    â€˜My God!’ she said. ‘I really believe you mean it, too. You actually think that’s the reason.’
    â€˜It is the reason.’
    â€˜No, it isn’t. If so, you’d have done it before–long ago. Why didn’t you? No, don’t answer. I’ll tell you. You got more pleasure out of holding it over me–that’s why. You liked to keep me on tenterhooks, and make me wince and squirm. You’d say things–diabolical things–just to torment me and keep me perpetually on the jump. And so they did for a bit–till I got used to them.’
    â€˜You got to feel secure,’ said Clare.
    â€˜You saw that, didn’t you? But even then, you held back, enjoying your sense of power. But now we’re going away, escaping from you, perhaps even goingto be happy–you couldn’t stick that at any price. So your convenient conscience wakes up!’
    She stopped, panting. Clare said, still very quietly:
    â€˜I can’t prevent your saying all these fantastical things; but I can assure you they’re not true.’
    Vivien turned suddenly and caught her by the hand.
    â€˜Clare–for God’s sake! I’ve been straight–I’ve done what you said. I’ve not seen Cyril again–I swear it.’
    â€˜That’s nothing to do with it.’
    â€˜Clare–haven’t you any pity–any kindness? I’ll go down on my knees to you.’
    â€˜Tell Gerald yourself. If you tell him, he may forgive you.’
    Vivien laughed scornfully.
    â€˜You know Gerald better than that. He’ll be rabid–vindictive. He’ll make me suffer–he’ll make Cyril suffer. That’s what I can’t bear. Listen, Clare–he’s doing so well. He’s invented something–machinery, I don’t understand about it, but it may be a wonderful success. He’s working it out now–his wife supplies the money for it, of course. But she’s suspicious–jealous. If she finds out, and she will find out if Gerald starts proceedings for divorce–she’ll chuck Cyril–his work, everything. Cyril will be ruined.’
    â€˜I’m not thinking of Cyril,’ said Clare. ‘I’m thinking of Gerald. Why don’t you think a little of him,