Lambone did not reply for a moment. “You flash at things—like a lizard. How could it have happened?”
“Then you did think?”
“My dear Christina Alberta, he didn’t know you existed until he set eyes on you. I’m sure of that.”
“But then. Wasn’t it plain? He knew them both!”
“Devizes,” said Lambone, “is ten years younger than I am. He’s barely forty. He must have been—not more than eighteen. Nineteen at most. It’s a little difficult.”
“That makes it easier. You never knew mother. If they were both young——”
“It’s just possible,” said Lambone, “there is some other explanation.”
“But what?”
“Can’t imagine. I suppose he was at Sheringham—perhaps for a holiday—and met her. But——”
“It must have been something casual, a kind of accident. Mother used to have flashes.... I never quite understood her. She used to suppress me, and perhaps she was suppressing herself.... And at the end—she said something. Someone had left her to it.... Do you know—at times—I’ve had fancies—suspicions! It seemed as though she guessed that I was guessing. Now I know—I was. It’s incredible. And yet it explains a hundred things.”