‘Dear Anna, in my last letter I told you of the intrigues against me and the enemies who are plotting my life. My former friends have turned against me and they tell the people in speeches in my territory that I am the enemy of Congress and their enemy. Meanwhile I am ill and I am writing to ask you to send me clean food for I fear the poisoner’s hand. I am ill, for my wife I have found to be in the pay of the police and the Governor himself. She is a very bad woman who I must divorce. Two unlawful arrests have been made on me, and I must suffer them since I am without help. I am alone in my house. Eyes watch me through the roof and the walls. I am being fed on many types of dangerous foods from human flesh (dead human flesh) to reptiles, including crocodiles. The crocodile will have its revenge. At night I see its eyes shining at me, and its snout comes at me through the walls. Hasten to help me. With fraternal greetings, Charlie Themba.’

Marion let the hand that held the letter fall by her side. She sat silent. Then she sighed. She got up, sleepwalkerwise, handed Anna the letter, and sat down again, smoothing the skirt under her, and folding her hands. She remarked, almost dreamily: ‘Anna, I was awake all last night. I can’t go back to Richard, I can’t.’

‘What about the children?’

‘Yes, I know. But what’s awful is, I don’t care. We have children because we love a man. Well, I think so. You say it isn’t true for you, but it’s true for me. I hate Richard. I really do. I think I must have hated him for years without knowing it.’ Marion slowly got up, with the same sleepwalker’s motion. Her eyes were searching the room for liquor. A small bottle of whisky stood on top of a pile of books. She half-filled a glass, and sat down holding the glass, sipping. ‘So why shouldn’t I stay here with Tommy? Why shouldn’t I?’

‘But Marion, this is Molly’s house …’

At this moment, a sound from the foot of the stairs. Tommy was coming up. Anna saw how Marion’s body jerked into self-possession. She put down the whisky glass and wiped her mouth quickly with a handkerchief. She had forgotten herself in the thought: Those slippery stairs, but I mustn’t go to help him.

Slowly the firm, blind feet came up the stairs. They halted on the landing while Tommy turned himself, feeling at the walls. Then he came in. This room being unfamiliar to him, he halted with his hand on the edge of the door, then he turned his dark blind muzzle to the centre of the room, let go the door and walked forward.

‘More to the left,’ said Marion.

He steered himself to the left, took one step too many, bumped his knee on the edge of the bed, turned himself around fast to stop himself falling, and sat, with another bump. Now he looked enquiringly around the room.