‘Splendid. Sit down now, do. If we stand here, we’re in full view of anybody entering or leaving Ottercombe, and I don’t want to be interrupted. No, I’ve no discreditable motive. Come now.’

He sat down on the hillock under the furze-bush and after a moment’s hesitation she joined him.

‘Will you smoke? Here you are.’

He lit her cigarette, dug the match into the turf, and then turned to her.

‘The matter I wanted to discuss with you,’ he said, ‘concerns this Left Movement of yours.’

Decima’s eyes opened wide.

‘That surprises you?’ observed Watchman.

‘It does rather,’ she said. ‘I can’t imagine why you should suddenly be interested in the CLM’

‘I’ve no business to be interested,’ said Watchman, ‘and in the ordinary sense, my dear Decima, I am not interested. It’s solely on your account—no, do let me make myself clear. It’s on your account that I want to put two questions to you. Of course if you choose you may refuse to answer them.’

Watchman cleared his throat, and pointed a finger at Decima.

‘Now in reference to this society—’

‘Dear me,’ interrupted Decima with a faint smile. ‘This green plot shall be our court, this furze-bush our witness-box; and we will do in action as we will do it before the judge.’

‘A vile paraphrase, and if we are to talk of midsummernight’s dreams, Decima—’

‘We certainly won’t do that,’ she said, turning very pink. ‘Pray continue your cross-examination, Mr Watchman.’

‘Thank you, my lord. First question: is this body—society, club, movement, or whatever it is—an incorporated company?’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means among other things that the books would have to be audited by a chartered accountant.’

‘Good Heavens, no. It’s simply grown up, largely owing to the efforts of Will Pomeroy and myself.’

‘So I supposed. You’ve a list of subscribing members.’

‘Three hundred and forty-five,’ said Decima proudly.

‘And the subscription?’

‘Ten bob. Are you thinking of joining us?’

‘Who collects the ten bobs?’

‘The treasurer.’

‘And secretary. Mr Legge?’

‘Yes. What are you driving at? What were you at last night, baiting Bob Legge?’

‘Wait a moment. Do any other sums of money pass through his hands?’

‘I don’t see why I should tell you these things,’ said Decima.

‘There’s no reason, but you have my assurance that I mean well.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘And you may be sure I shall regard this conversation as strictly confidential.’

‘All right,’ she said uneasily. ‘We’ve raised sums for different objects. We want to start a Left Book Club in Illington and there are one or two funds—Spanish, Czech and Austrian refugees and the fighting fund and so on.’

‘Yes. At the rate of how much a year. Three hundred for instance?’

‘About that. Quite that, I should think. We’ve some very generous supporters.’