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Rebecca(63)

Author:Daphne Du Maurier

It was the following day I remember, when Frith, who had brought in the coffee after lunch to the library, waited a moment, hovering behind Maxim, and said, “Could I speak to you, sir?” Maxim glanced up from his paper.

“Yes, Frith, what is it?” he said, rather surprised. Frith wore a stiff solemn expression, his lips pursed. I thought at once his wife had died.

“It’s about Robert, sir. There has been a slight unpleasantness between him and Mrs. Danvers. Robert is very upset.”

“Oh, Lord,” said Maxim, making a face at me. I bent down to fondle Jasper, my unfailing habit in moments of embarrassment.

“Yes, sir. It appears Mrs. Danvers has accused Robert of secreting a valuable ornament from the morning room. It is Robert’s business to bring in the fresh flowers to the morning room and place the vases. Mrs. Danvers went in this morning after the flowers had been done, and noticed one of the ornaments was missing. It was there yesterday, she said. She accused Robert of either taking the ornament or breaking it and concealing the breakage. Robert denied both accusations most emphatically, and came to me nearly in tears, sir. You may have noticed he was not himself at lunch.”

“I wondered why he handed me the cutlets without giving me a plate,” murmured Maxim. “I did not know Robert was so sensitive. Well, I suppose someone else did it. One of the maids.”

“No, sir. Mrs. Danvers went into the room before the girl had done the room. Nobody had been there since Madam yesterday, and Robert first thing with the flowers. It makes it very unpleasant for Robert and myself, sir.”

“Yes, of course it does. Well you had better ask Mrs. Danvers to come here and we’ll get to the bottom of it. What ornament was it, anyway?”

“The china cupid, sir, that stands on the writing-table.”

“Oh! Oh, Lord. That’s one of our treasures, isn’t it? It will have to be found. Get hold of Mrs. Danvers at once.”

“Very good, sir.”

Frith left the room and we were alone again. “What a confounded nuisance,” said Maxim; “that cupid is worth a hell of a lot. How I loathe servants’ rows too. I wonder why they come to me about it. That’s your job, sweetheart.”

I looked up from Jasper, my face red as fire. “Darling,” I said, “I meant to tell you before, but—but I forgot. The fact is I broke that cupid when I was in the morning room yesterday.”

“You broke it? Well, why the devil didn’t you say so when Frith was here?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t like to. I was afraid he would think me a fool.”

“He’ll think you much more of a fool now. You’ll have to explain to him and Mrs. Danvers.”

“Oh, no, please, Maxim, you tell them. Let me go upstairs.”

“Don’t be a little idiot. Anyone would think you were afraid of them.”

“I am afraid of them. At least, not afraid, but…”

The door opened, and Frith ushered Mrs. Danvers into the room. I looked nervously at Maxim. He shrugged his shoulders, half amused, half angry.

“It’s all a mistake, Mrs. Danvers. Apparently Mrs. de Winter broke the cupid herself and forgot to say anything,” said Maxim.

They all looked at me. It was like being a child again. I was still aware of my guilty flush. “I’m so sorry,” I said, watching Mrs. Danvers, “I never thought Robert would get into trouble.”

“Is it possible to repair the ornament, Madam?” said Mrs. Danvers. She did not seem to be surprised that I was the culprit. She looked at me with her white skull’s face and her dark eyes. I felt she had known it was me all along and had accused Robert to see if I would have the courage to confess.

“I’m afraid not,” I said, “it’s smashed in little pieces.”

“What did you do with the pieces?” said Maxim.

It was like being a prisoner, giving evidence. How paltry and mean my actions sounded, even to myself. “I put them all into an envelope,” I said.

“Well, what did you do with the envelope?” said Maxim, lighting a cigarette, his tone a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

“I put it at the back of one of the drawers in the writing desk,” I said.

“It looks as though Mrs. de Winter thought you would put her in prison, doesn’t it, Mrs. Danvers?” said Maxim. “Perhaps you would find the envelope and send the pieces up to London. If they are too far gone to mend it can’t be helped. All right, Frith. Tell Robert to dry his tears.”

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