He remembered to shake hands with Rua and then slipped up a side aisle and out by the front door. The rest of the party became involved in a series of introductions forced upon them by the Mayor and, escaping from these, fell into the clutches of a very young reporter from the Harpoon Courier who, having let Gaunt escape him, seized upon Dikon and Mrs Claire.

At last Dr Ackrington said loudly: ‘I’m walking.’

‘But James, dear,’ Mrs Claire protested gently. ‘Your leg!’

‘I said I was walking, Agnes. You can take Edward. I’ll tell Gaunt.’

Before Dikon, who was separated from him by one or two people could do anything to stop him, he had edged between a row of chairs and gone out by the side aisle.

‘Then,’ said Dikon to Mrs Claire, ‘perhaps the Colonel would like to come with us?’

‘Yes, yes,’ said Mrs Claire uneasily. ‘I am sure…Edward! Where is he?’

He was some way ahead. Dikon could see his white crest moving slowly towards the door.

‘We’ll catch him when we get outside,’ he said.

‘Quite a crush, isn’t it?’ said Mr Falls at his elbow. ‘More like the West End every moment.’

Dikon turned to look at him. The remark seemed to be not altogether in character. Mr Falls raised his eyebrow. A theatrical phrase in common usage came into Dikon’s mind. ‘He’s got good appearance,’ he thought.

‘I’m afraid the Colonel has escaped us,’ said Mr Falls.

As they moved slowly down the aisle Dikon was conscious of a feeling of extreme urgency, a sense of being obstructed, such as one sometimes experiences in a nightmare. Barbara’s distress assumed a disproportionate significance. Dikon was determined that she should not be hoodwinked by Mr Questing’s outrageous hint that he had sent the dress, yet he could not tell her that Gaunt had done so. And where was Gaunt? In his present state of mind he was capable of anything. It was highly probable that at this very moment he was hot on Questing’s track.