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picked up speed。
〃So much for Patashoqua；〃 Gentle said as the walls became a mirage。
〃No great loss；〃 Pie remarked。
〃But I wanted to see the Merrow Ti' TV；〃 Gentle said。
〃No chance；〃 Pie returned。
〃Why？〃
〃It was pure invention；〃 Pie said。 〃Like all my favorite things； including myself。 Pure invention！〃
19
Though Jude had made an oath； in all sobriety； to follow Gentle wherever she'd seen him go； her plans for pursuit were stymied by a number of claims upon her energies； the most pressing of which was Clem's。 He needed her advice； fort； and organizational skills in the dreary； rainy days that followed New Year； and despite the urgency of her agenda she could scarcely turn her back on him。 Taylor's funeral took place on January ninth； with a memorial service which Clem took great pains to perfect。 It was a melancholy triumph： a time for Taylor's friends and relations to mingle and express their affections for the departed man。 Jude met people she'd not seen in many years； and few； if any； failed to ment on the one conspicuous absentee： Gentle。 She told everybody what she'd told Clem。 That Gentle had been going through a bad time； and the last she'd heard he was planning to leave on holiday。 Clem； of course； would not be fobbed off with such vague excuses。 Gentle had left knowing that Taylor was dead； and Clem viewed his departure as a kind of cowardice。 Jude didn't attempt to defend the wanderer。 She simply tried to make as little mention of Gentle in Clem's presence as she could。
But the subject would keep ing up； one way or another。 Sorting through Taylor's belongings after the funeral； Clem came upon three watercolors； painted by Gentle in the style of Samuel Palmer； but signed with his own name and dedicated to Taylor。 Pictures of idealized landscapes； they couldn't help but turn Clem's thoughts back to Taylor's unrequited love for the vanished man； and Jude's to the place he had vanished for。 They were among the few items that Clem； perhaps vengefully； wanted to destroy； but Jude persuaded him otherwise。 He kept one in memory of Taylor； gave one to Klein； and gave the third to Jude。
Her duty to Clem not only took its toll upon her time but upon her focus。 When； in the middle of the month； he suddenly announced that he was going to leave the next day for Tenerife； there to tan his troubles away for a fortnight； she was glad to be released from the daily duties of friend and forter but found herself unable to rekindle the heat of ambition that had flared in her at the month's first hour。 She had one unlikely touchstone； however： the dog。 She only had to look at the mutt and she remembered…as though it were an hour ago…standing at the door of Gentle's flat and seeing the pair dissolving in front of her astonished eyes。 And on the heels of that memory came thoughts of the news she had been carrying to Gentle that night： the dream journey induced by the stone that was now wrapped up and hidden from sight and seeing in her wardrobe。 She was not a great lover of dogs； but she'd taken the mongrel home that night； knowing it would perish if she didn't。 It quickly ingratiated itself； wagging a furious wele when she returned home each night after being with Clem； sneaking into her bedroom in the early hours and making a nest for itself in her soiled clothes。 She called it Skin； because it had so little fur； and while she didn't dote on it the way it doted on her； she was still glad of its pany。 More than once she found herself talking to it at great length； while it licked its paws or its balls； these monologues a means to refocus her thoughts without worrying that she was losing her mind。 Three days after Clem's departure for sunnier climes； discussing with Skin how she should best proceed； Estabrook's name came up。
〃You haven't met Estabrook；〃 she told Skin。 〃But I'll guarantee you won't like him。 He tried to have me killed； you know？〃
The dog looked up from its toilet。
〃Yes； I was amazed too；〃 she said； 〃I mean； that's worse than an animal； right？ No disrespect； but it is。 I was his wife。 I am his wife。 And he tried to have me killed。 What would you do； if you were me？ Yes； I know； I should see him。 He had the blue eye in his safe。 And that book！ Remind me to tell you about the book sometime。 No； maybe I shouldn't。 It'll give you ideas。〃
Skin settled his head on his crossed paws； gave a small sigh of contentment； and started to doze。
〃You're a big help；〃 she said。 〃I need some advice here。 What do you say to a man who tried to have you murdered？〃
Skin's eyes were closed； so she was obliged to furnish her own reply。
〃I say： Hello； Charlie； why don't you tell me the story of your life？〃
She called Lewis Leader the next day to find out whether Estabrook was still hospitalized。 She was told he was； but that he'd been moved to a private clinic in Hampstead。 Leader supplied details of his whereabouts； and Jude called to inquire both about Estabrook's condition and visiting hours。 She was told he was still under close scrutiny but seemed to be in better spirits than he'd been； and she was wele to e and see him at any time。 There seemed little purpose in delaying the meeting。 She drove up to Hampstead that very evening； through another tumultuous rainstorm； arriving to a wele from the psychiatric nurse in charge of Estabrook's case； a chatty young man called Maurice who lost his top lip when he smiled； which was often； and talked with an almost indiscreet enthusiasm about the state of his patient's mind。
〃He has good days；〃 Maurice said brightly。 Then； just as brightly： 〃But not many。 He's severely depressed。 He made one attempt to kill himself before he came to us； but he's settled down a lot。〃
〃Is he sedated？〃
〃We help keep the anxiety controllable； but he's not drugged senseless。 We can't help him get to the root of the problem if he is。〃
〃Has he told you what that is？〃 she said； expecting accusations to be tossed in her direction。
〃It's pretty obscure；〃 Maurice said。 〃He talks about you very fondly； and I'm sure your ing will do him a great deal of good。 But the problem's obviously with his blood relatives。 I've got him to talk a little about his father and his brother； but he's very cagey。 The father's dead； of course； but maybe you can shed some light on the brother。〃…〃I never met him。〃
〃That's a pity。 Charles clearly feels a great deal of anger towards his brother； but I haven't got to the root of why。 I will。 It'll just take time。 He's very good at keeping his secrets to himself； isn't he？ But then you probably know that。 Shall I take you along to see him？ I did tell him you'd telephoned； so I think he's expecting you。〃
Jude was irritated that the element of surprise had been removed； that Estabrook would have had time to prepare his feints and fabrications。 But what was done was done； and rather than snap at the gleeful Maurice for his indiscretion she kept her displeasure to herself。 She might need the man's smiling assistance in the fullness of time。
Estabrook's room was pleasant enough。 Spacious and fortable； its walls adorned with reproductions of Monet and Renoir； it was a soothing space。 Even the piano concerto that played softly in the background seemed posed to placate a troubled mind。 Estabrook was not in bed but sitting by the window； one of the curtains drawn aside so he could watch the rain。 He was dressed in pajamas and his best dressing gown； smoking。 As Maurice had said； he was clearly awaiting his visitor。 There was no flicker of surprise when she appeared at the door。 And； as she'd anticipated； he had his wele ready。
〃At last； a familiar face。〃
He didn't open his arms to embrace her； but she went to him and kissed him lightly on both cheeks。
〃One of the nurses will get you something to drink； if you'd like；〃 he said。
〃Yes； I'd like some coffee。 It's bitter out there。〃
〃Maybe Maurice'11 get it； if I promise to unburden my soul。〃
〃Do you？〃 said Maurice。
〃I do。 I promise。 You'll know the secrets of my potty training by this time tomorrow。〃
〃Milk and sugar？〃 Maurice asked。
〃Just milk；〃 Charlie said。 〃Unless her tastes have changed。〃
〃No；〃 she told him。
〃Of course not。 Judith doesn't change。 Judith's eternal。〃
Maurice withdrew； leaving them to talk。 There was no embarrassed silence。 He had his spiel ready； and while he delivered it…a speech about how glad he was that she'd e； and how much he hoped it meant she would begin to forgive him…she studied his changed face。 He'd lost weight and was without his toupe'e； which revealed in his physiognomy qualities she'd never seen before。 His large nose and tugged…down mouth； with jutting over…large lower lip； lent him the look of an aristocrat fallen on hard times。 She doubted that she'd ever find it in her heart to love him again； but she could certainly manage a twinge of pity； seeing him so reduced。
〃I suppose you want a divorce；〃 he said。
〃We can talk about that another time。〃
〃Do you need money？〃
〃Not at the moment。〃
〃If you do…〃
〃I'll ask。〃
A male nurse appeared with coffee for1 Jude； hot chocolate for Estabrook； and biscuits。 When he'd gone； she plunged into a confession。 One from her； she reasoned； might elicit one from him。
〃I went to t