The Luminaries

very much if I asked you to pour out the tea? I’m feeling a little strange, and I would like some time alone.’
    ‘Certainly,’ said Cowell Devlin with courtesy, and he left the room.
    As soon as he was gone Anna rose and crossed the parlour in two quick steps, the charred deed of gift still in her hand. Her heart was beating fast. She stood unmoving for a moment, gathering confidence , and then, in one fluid motion, she went to the widow’s writing desk, laid the deed of gift upon the table, uncorked a pot of ink, picked up Mrs. Wells’s pen, wet the nib in the inkwell, leaned forward, and wrote:
    Emery Staines
    Anna had never seen Emery Staines’s signature before, but she knew without a doubt that she had replicated the form of it exactly. The letters of Staines’s last name followed a careless diminution, andthe letters of his first were cheerfully illegible; the signature was confidently sloppy, and underlined with a casual relish, as if to say that the shape had been formed so many times before as not to be disproved by any minor variation. There was a doubled curlicue preceding the E—a personal touch—and the S had a slightly flattened quality.
    ‘What have you done?’
    Devlin was standing in the doorway with the tea tray in his hands and an expression of fearsome admonition on his face. He set the tray upon the sideboard with a clatter and advanced upon her, holding out his hand. Mutely, Anna passed the document to him, and he snatched it up. For a moment, his outrage was such that he could not speak; then he controlled himself, and said, very quietly,
    ‘This is an act of fraud.’
    ‘Maybe,’ said Anna.
    ‘
What
?’ Devlin shouted, suddenly furious. He rounded on her. ‘
What
did you say?’
    He had expected her to cower, but she did not. ‘That’s his signature ,’ she said. ‘The deed is good.’
    ‘That is not his signature,’ Devlin said.
    ‘It is,’ said Anna.
    ‘That is a forgery,’ Devlin snapped. ‘You have just committed forgery.’
    ‘Maybe I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Anna.
    ‘Your insolence is unbecoming,’ Devlin said. ‘Will you add the crime of perjury to the crime of fraud?’
    ‘Maybe I don’t know anything about fraud.’
    ‘The truth will bear out,’ said Devlin. ‘There are analysts, Miss Wetherell, who can tell a forgery at sight.’
    ‘Not this one,’ Anna said.
    ‘Do not delude yourself,’ Devlin said. ‘Shame on you.’
    But Anna was feeling quite without delusion, and quite without shame; she was feeling, in fact, sharper than she had felt in many months. Now that Emery Staines’s signature was upon the deed of gift, it was no longer invalid. By the authority of this document, two thousand pounds
must
be given, as a present, to Miss Anna Wetherell, by Mr. Emery Staines; the deed had been signed, andwitnessed, and the signature of the donor was a good one. Who could fault her word, when one of the signatories had vanished, and the other was dead?
    ‘Can I look at it again?’ she said, and Devlin, red-faced with anger, handed the deed back to her. Once it was in her hand, Anna darted away, loosed the bodice of Agathe Gascoigne’s dress, and slipped the paper between the buttons, so that it lay against her skin. Placing her hands over her bodice, she stood a moment, panting , her eyes searching Devlin’s—who had not moved. There was ten feet of space between them.
    ‘For shame,’ Devlin said quietly. ‘Explain yourself.’
    ‘I want a second opinion, that’s all.’
    ‘You have just falsified that deed, Miss Wetherell.’
    ‘That can’t be proved.’
    ‘By my oath, it can.’
    ‘What’s to stop me swearing an oath against you?’
    ‘That would be a falsehood,’ Devlin said. ‘And it would be a very grave falsehood, if you swore to it in court, which you would certainly be forced to do. Don’t be foolish.’
    ‘I’ll get a second opinion,’ she said again. ‘I’ll go to the Courthouse and ask.’
    ‘Miss Wetherell,’ Devlin said. ‘Calm yourself. Think. It would be the word of a minister against the word of a whore.’
    ‘I’m not whoring any more.’
    ‘A former whore,’ said Devlin. ‘Forgive me.’
    He took a step towards her, and Anna retreated. Her hand was still pressed flat over her breast.
    ‘If you come one step closer,’ she said, ‘I’ll scream, and I’ll rip my bodice open, and say you did it. They’ll hear me from the street. They’ll rush in.’
    Devlin had never