Vanish in an Instant by Margaret Millar Page A

response to fear. But because the fear was nameless and unimmediate, the vio­lence was vague and unreasoning. He dropped an ash tray. Dropped it, quite unintentionally, and when he saw it break he had no conscious feeling of satisfaction, but he stopped sweating and his heartbeat was normal again.
    Mrs. Hamilton dismissed his apologies with a gesture. She looked annoyed, not at the loss of the ash tray, but at the interruption of her thoughts.
    She said quietly and firmly, “You understand, don’t you, that Virginia gets wild ideas sometimes. You mustn’t take them seriously.”
    â€œI don’t.”
    â€œThis false arrest business would never do, you under­stand that.”
    â€œQuite.” He didn’t remind her that he’d said the same thing himself, at least twice.
    â€œVirginia can be very persuasive. I—I beg of you not to pay any attention to her. She doesn’t realize the conse­quences of such a thing—more publicity and investiga­tions, policemen prying into things.”
    â€œWhat things?”
    â€œEverything,” she said, spreading her small plumphands. “Paul has suffered enough. Crank phone calls and letters, and reporters stopping him on the street.”
    â€œIt will all blow over.”
    â€œNot if Virginia does anything further. Like this suit she wants to start.”
    â€œNo lawyer would touch it.”
    It was his third or fourth reassurance. “That’s a relief,” she said, and Meecham thought the subject was closed un­til she added, “Why does Virginia want money so badly?”
    â€œYou’d better ask her.”
    â€œShe’d lie.”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œNot that she’s a liar, a real liar, but she’s secretive some­times because she doesn’t understand how completely sym­pathetic I am to her.” She repeated the word completely with emphasis, as if denying an unspoken accusation of lack of sympathy. “I understand her, she’s my girl. We’ve always been very close.”
    â€œI see that.”
    â€œTell me frankly, Mr. Meecham. Did you examine any of the reports about Virginia?”
    â€œWhat reports?”
    â€œWhile she was in—while she was there, they must have asked her questions, given her tests, things like that. They usually do, don’t they?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYou don’t know how they—turned out?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI thought since you were . . . Well, it doesn’t really matter. Virginia’s normal, of course. A little spoiled, but completely normal.”
    â€œI agree,” Meecham said. It was futile to say anything else.
    Mrs. Hamilton looked at him gratefully. She had re­ceived the answer she wanted and now it was time to change the subject before Meecham could reverse or mod­ify his answer. She said, “It’s been a sordid business. I’m glad it’s over, and I suppose you are too.”
    â€œIn a way.”
    â€œSend me your bill as soon as possible. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying here. Or I can pay you right now, if you like, in cash.”
    â€œThat won’t be necessary.”
    Somewhere in the house a telephone rang, twice.
    â€œYou’ll come to our little celebration dinner tonight, Mr. Meecham?”
    â€œThanks, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it.” He never wanted to set foot in that house again, to be subtly imprisoned by a soft chair and a glass table and a quiet fran­tic woman. “I have some business to attend to.”
    â€œOf course. You must have other clients, hundreds.”
    â€œA few, anyway.”
    â€œThis man, Loftus. He’ll undoubtedly get a good law­yer?”
    â€œMoney or no money, he’ll get a lawyer of some kind.”
    â€œWhy do you say, money or no money?”
    â€œIf he can’t afford to pay, the court will appoint two lawyers for the defense. There’s