Mr Falls did not follow him. To Dikon’s embarrassment he stayed and listened with the air of a connoisseur to Gaunt’s renewed display of temper. Gaunt had never been averse to an audience at these moments but on this occasion he seemed to be unaware of anyone but Dikon, who received the full blast of his displeasure. He was told that he had bungled the whole affair, that he should never have allowed Webley an interview, that he was totally indifferent to Gaunt’s agony of mind. Never before had Dikon found his employer so unreasonably abusive. His own feeling of apprehension mounted with each intemperate phrase. He was ashamed of Gaunt.

This uncomfortable display was brought to an end by a sudden and unnerving clangour outside the window. Huia was performing with vigour upon the dinner bell. Gaunt, abominably startled, uttered a loud oath.

‘Is that lunch?’ exclaimed Dikon, who had himself been shaken. ‘Now I come to think of it,’ he added, I forgot to have breakfast.’

’I fancy it is a summons to the conference,’ said Falls placidly. ‘Shall we go in?’

VI

Three of the small dining tables had been shoved together and at the head of them sat Dr Ackrington with the Colonel, looking miserable, on his right hand. Simon and Smith sat together at the far end. Simon looked mulish and Smith foggily disgusted. Dr Ackrington pointed portentously to the chairs on his left. Dikon and Falls sat together; Gaunt, like a sulky schoolboy, took the chair farthest removed from everyone else. The Colonel, evidently feeling that the silence was oppressive, suddenly ejaculated: ‘Rum go, what?’ and seemed alarmed at the sound of his own voice.

‘Very rum,’ agreed Mr Falls sedately.

Mrs Claire and Barbara came in. They wore their best dresses, together with hats and gloves, and they carried prayer books. They contrived to disseminate an atmosphere of English Sunday morning. There was a great scraping of chairs as the men got up. Smith and Simon seemed to grudge this small courtesy, and looked foolish.

‘I’m so sorry if we are late, dear,’ said Mrs Claire. ‘Everything was a little disorganized this morning.’ She began to peel the worn gloves from her plump little hands and looked about her with an air of brisk expectancy. Dikon remembered with a start that she conducted a Sunday school in the native village. ‘We had to come and go by the long way,’ she explained.

Barbara went off with the prayer books and returned, without her hat, looking scared.

‘Well, sit down, Agnes, sit down,’ Dr Ackrington commanded. ‘Now that you have come. Though why the devil you elected to traipse off…However! I imagine that you had no pupils.’

‘Not a very good attendance,’ said Mrs Claire gently, ‘and I’m afraid they were rather inattentive, poor dears.’