Dikon followed her along the path. She started off at a great rate, with her head high, clutching her raincoat about her. They had gone some little way before he saw that her shoulders were quivering. He felt certain that all she wanted of him was to leave her to herself, but he could not make up his mind to do this. As they drew nearer to the house they saw Colonel and Mrs Claire come out on the verandah and begin to set up their deck chairs. Barbara stopped short and turned. Her face was stained with tears.

‘I can’t let them see,’ she said.

‘Come round by the other path.’

It was a track that skirted the springs and came out near the cabins. A brushwood fence screened it from the verandah. Halfway along, Barbara faltered, sat on the bank, buried her face in her arms and cried most bitterly.

‘Oh God, I’m so sorry,’ said Dikon confusedly. ‘Have my handkerchief. I’ll turn my back, shall I? Or shall I?’

She took the handkerchief with a woebegone attempt at a smile. He sat beside her and put his arm around her.

‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘He’s quite preposterous. A ridiculous episode.’

‘It was beastly.’

‘Well, confound the fellow, anyway, for upsetting you.’

‘It’s not only that. He—he—’ Barbara hesitated and then with a most dejected attempt at her trick of over-emphasis sobbed out: ‘He’s got a hold on us.’

‘So Colly was right,’ Dikon thought. ‘It is the old dope.’

‘If only Daddy had never met him! And what Sim’s doing now, I can’t imagine. If Sim loses his temper he’s frightful. Oh dear,’ said Barbara blowing her nose very loudly on Dikon’s handkerchief, ‘what have we all done that everything should go so hideously wrong with us? Really, it’s exactly as if we dotted scenes about the place like booby traps for Mr Gaunt and you. And he was so heavenly about the other time, pretending he didn’t mind.’

‘It wasn’t a pretence. He told you the truth when he said he adored scenes. He does. He even uses them in his work. Do you remember in the Jane Eyre, when Rochester, without realizing what he did, slowly wrung the necks of Jane’s bridal flowers?’

‘Of course I do,’ said Barbara eagerly. ‘It was terrible but sort of noble.’

‘He got it from a drunken dresser who flew into a rage with the star she looked after. She wrenched the heads off one of the bouquets. He never forgets things like that.’

‘Oh.’

‘You’re feeling a bit better now?’

‘A bit. You’re very kind, aren’t you?’ said Barbara rather as if she saw Dikon for the first time. ‘I mean, to take trouble over our frightfulness.’

‘You must stop being apologetic,’ Dikon said. ‘So far I’ve taken no trouble at all.’

‘You listen nicely,’ Barbara said.