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her. He might be more attentive when Silver Arrow had won her race, but she doubted it. There seemed to be no prospect of ever winning his love.
    He came in to eat an enormous breakfast, telling her he had tramped all over the moor, and how much he had missed Caesar. His dog, Frances noted, not his wife. She asked:
    ‘Why didn’t you wake me? I’d have come too.'
    ‘You were so sound asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you.’
    He went on to say he must go to Glasgow to say goodbye to his parents.
    'But I thought you’d done that!’ Frances was dismayed.
    ‘I was too busy making the arrangements for our wedding and whatnot.’ He noticed her expression. ‘You can come with me if you like. You’ll, have to meet them some time.’
    But not now, on the eve of his departure, and he did not sound as if he wanted her company.
    'I think I’d better wait until your return,’ she told him. ‘Bit trying for them to have me foisted on them when they'll want to give all their attention to you.'
    He shot her a keen glance, seemed about to protest, then shrugged his shoulders. ‘As you please,’ he said indifferently. ‘I’ll be back in time for dinner.’
    It was a grey day, wreaths of mist encircling the hills. The skies seemed to be weeping. Frances decided it was the weather that made her feel so despondent as she walked beside the stream. Naturally Gray wanted to see his parents, especially as his father’s health was precarious and she had been mistaken when she thought he had already taken his leave. She must not expect too much from him, he had never pretended that he loved her. He would only be gone a couple of weeks, Stuart had wanted him to stay a while after the race, and she must concentrate upon making their hie together a success upon his return. They would create their home in a calmer atmosphere than during these hectic honeymoon days, and she must ensure it really was a home. He appreciated her serenity and she must stay unruffled whatever the provocation, and in time she might win his love, make him realise Frances nee Desmond was a person not merely an instrument to slake desire. The physical reciprocity between them was not to be despised, but passion was too ephemeral to make a solid basis to their life together, they needed more than that.
    She did not think Gray would find it easy to settle down to a conventional life, and it would be her task to help him with her love and understanding. She knew now that she loved him devotedly; he had mastered not only her body but her entire being. Surely love as strong and deep as hers must reach him eventually?
    Gray was late for dinner and Frances met him with no word of reproach for his day-long desertion but listened patiently to his enthusiasm about the publicity that he had found had been built up around Silver Arrow. She was the favourite to win. His boat was in the ascendant now, he could talk o; nothing else, and he did not seem to see her when he looked at her. Stu was already at Miami and was looking forward to his coming. She could not help asking:
    ‘Will Miss Lambert also be there?'
    ‘Sam? Oh, she'll be somewhere around.
    His complete indifference reassured her. But that night her fears and uncertainties returned in force, all the more potent because they were intangible. She clung to him with such desperate intensity that he was surprised.
    ‘Darling, I’m not going away for ever. I know it's a deprivation for . . . both of us, but it won't be for long.’
    She noticed the tiny pause before the both’; he would not be deprived, already he had gone from her in spirit, and tears rose in her eyes.
    ‘Don’t turn into a weeping Niobe,’ he chided her, as a tear splashed on his chest. ‘Brave women send their men into battle with smiles.’
    And so she smiled until her lips were stiff, all through breakfast, and during their goodbyes. Gray was leaving for the airport, and a taxi was calling for her to take her to Mallaig. His final embrace was