At a quarter to twelve I heard the front door, and the sharp click of Dulce’s heels across the marble.

She pushed open the study door in a green silk dress, her smile radiant and effortless.

“Mortimer, darling.

Why are you sitting in the dark?

You look pale.” I looked at the woman I had cherished and searched her face for one flicker of the person I thought I had married.

There was nothing there.