Free A Lesson in Secrets by Jacqueline Winspear Page A

through the tumult of war. On a simple level, one can only hope—can only trust—that if there is one single omnipotent God, then he knows what he is doing.” She stopped speaking.
    Liddicote did not press her, knowing that she had more to say.
    “I think, therefore . . . ,” Maisie went on, “that it is admissible to say that God exists, even if we have no rational means of proof. But if that is so, we must also assume that evil exists. As far as my teaching is concerned, I believe there to be a richness of debate when we discuss what is meant by good and evil, and how the philosophical dialogue is reflected in the human experience.”
    Liddicote nodded. “Good answers, Miss Dobbs, and thoughtful. I anticipate joining one of your classes next week—I think perhaps on Wednesday afternoon, when you teach the more senior students.”
    “I look forward to it, Dr. Liddicote.”
    “One more thing, Miss Dobbs, then I will release you to the staff room, for it’s almost time for morning coffee.” He took out his pocket watch and checked the hour. “It has been suggested that we apply to join a debate among students from the Cambridge colleges, on the fragile nature of peace and our position regarding Germany, particularly in light of political developments in that country. Such a debate is bound to attract the attention of a broader audience—not least the press. Certain members of staff are in favor of accepting the invitation, some against. What side of the fence would you choose?” He cupped his hand around his ear and leaned forward, as if to ensure he caught every word of her reply.
    “I would like to have more information on the two positions suggested for debate—Is one for a resumption of conflict? Is this a result of the Peace Conference and the mood in Germany as a result of the outcome of the conference? Or is the debate inspired by the limitations of the League of Nations? In principle, I am in favor of any benign argument that has as its purpose the discovery of a means to sustain peace—but I have some reservations regarding the debate’s genesis.”
    “Good enough, good enough. Now then, I have another appointment on the hour.”
    “Of course.” Maisie gathered her briefcase and papers and left the room. Francesca Thomas was waiting as Maisie emerged from Liddicote’s office. Her tailored costume of navy-blue jacket and matching skirt enhanced a natural elegance, and seemed to draw attention to her angular features, her wide eyes set off by high cheekbones. She greeted Maisie, and as she moved, the navy-blue-and-magenta silk scarf at her neck shifted and a faint scar was revealed on her neck. Either Dr. Thomas had undergone a serious surgical procedure, or she had been the victim of an attack. In either event, at some point in her life, a blade had penetrated her delicate skin in a most vulnerable area.
    As Maisie continued along the corridor, Miss Linden emerged from her office with Delphine Lang, and sighed when she saw Francesca Thomas close the door behind her as she entered Greville Liddicote’s office.
    “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait now—he’s going to be a while, I would say.” She nodded as Maisie passed, turning to the pale teaching assistant to suggest that she come back after morning coffee.
    Touching her own neck as she walked up to the staff room, Maisie reflected on the fact that the school’s founder seemed particularly busy on that morning; now she had just enough time for a cup of coffee before her next class. Perhaps the warm, though barely palatable, liquid would temper the tingling sensation that seemed to have settled on the skin at her throat.
    T here were no bells rung to announce the end of a lesson; instead the clocks in corridors and classrooms were synchronized by the caretaker each morning. When she checked the time and brought the first class of the afternoon to an end, Maisie gathered her books and made her way to the staff room. As usual, she was one