A sudden, fearful death

you tell them. And William ..."
    "Yes?"
    "You had better be absolutely
sure you are right!"
    Monk sighed. It was getting uglier
and more complicated with each new thought that came to him.
    "What impression did you form
of the sister and her husband?" Callandra pursued.
    "Of them?" He was
surprised. "Very sympathetic to her. I can't believe she has anything to
fear from them, even if she did not resist as thoroughly as she might."
    Callandra said nothing. They
finished their course in companionable silence and the plum pie was brought in
and served. It was so delicious that they both ate without speaking for
several minutes, then finally Callandra set her spoon down.
    "Have you seen Hester
lately?"
    "No."
    She smiled with some inner
amusement. He felt annoyed and then unaccountably foolish.
    "I have not seen her," he
went on. "The last time we parted it was with less than amiability. She is
the most opinionated and abrasive woman I have ever met, and dogmatic to the
degree that she does not listen to anyone else. And she is absurdly complacent
about it, which makes it insufferable."
    "Qualities you do not
like?" she asked innocently.
    "Good God no!" he
exploded. "Does anyone?"
    "You find firmly held opinions
and spirited defense of them displeasing?"
    "Yes!" he said
vehemently, setting down his spoon momentarily. "It is unbecoming,
irritating in manner, and makes all intelligent and open conversation
impossible. Not that most men would be seeking an intelligent conversation with
a woman of her age," he added.
    "Especially when her views are
mistaken," she said with her eyes bright.
    "That adds to it, of
course," he conceded, quite sure now that she was laughing.
    "You know she said something
very similar about you when she was here about three weeks ago. She is nursing
an elderly lady with a broken leg, but at that point the woman was almost
recovered, and I don't think she has a further position offered her yet."
    "Perhaps if she were to guard
her tongue a little and make herself more obliging—and modest?" he
suggested.
    "I am sure you are
right," Callandra agreed. "With your own experience of the value of
such qualities, perhaps you might give her some excellent advice." She
made the suggestion with a face almost wiped of humor.
    He looked at her more closely.
There was the slightest curl of a smile on her mouth and her eyes avoided his.
    "After all," she
continued, keeping a sober expression with an effort, "intelligent
conversation with the open-minded is so agreeable, don't you think?"
    "You are twisting my
words," he said between his teeth.
    "No I am not," she
denied, looking up at him with quite open affection and amusement. "You
mean that when Hester has an opinion and will not move from it, it is dogmatic
and unbecoming and it annoys you incredibly. When you have one it is courageous
and committed, and the only path for anyone with integrity. That is what you
said, one way or another, and I am quite sure it is what you mean." .
    "You think I am wrong."
He leaned forward on the table.
    "Oh frequently. But I should
never dare to say so. Would you care for more cream with your pie? I suppose
you have not heard from Oliver Rathbone lately either?"
    He helped himself to the cream.
    "I looked into a minor case
for him ten days ago." Rathbone was the highly successful barrister with
whom Monk had worked on all his outstanding cases since the accident. He
admired Rathbone's professional ability profoundly and found the man himself
both attractive and irritating. There was a suaveness and a self-confidence in
him which caught a nerve in Monk's nature. They were too alike in some aspects,
and too unalike in others. "He seemed in excellent health," he
finished with a tight smile, meeting Callandra's eyes. "And how are you?
We have spoken of everything else..."
    She looked down at her plate for a
moment, then up again at him.
    "I am very well, thank you. Do
I not look
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