There was a pillar box, just down the road, within sight of the gateway to Barnhurst, and she had stamps; a half-used five-shilling book of them and three loose ones, each for half a crown, were in the handbag which had apparently accompanied her into Wandford Hospital. She stuck one three penny and one half-crown stamp on to her envelope, addressed it to the Rectory, Walwyk, and wrote ‘Please forward if away’ in the left-hand top corner; and without the slightest sense of guilt she set out for the pillar box one evening just before dinner. It did not even occur to her that the moment was seemingly well chosen; Mrs Mott-Tyler and General Fordham always drank together at this hour, and Miss Ellison was upstairs attending to the Poor Dears.

Miss Mayfield had almost reached the pillar box when she heard quick, thudding feet behind her and heavy breathing. She turned and came face to face with Miss Ellison, who had seen her from the bedroom window and run straight down and out, without even troubling to remove her apron or the bit of starched linen which, when the fancy took her, she pinned to her head while acting as nurse. Miss Ellison grabbed at the hand holding the letter and gasped out:

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

‘I am posting a letter,’ said Miss Mayfield, with great dignity. ‘What do you think you are doing, Miss Ellison, accosting me like this?’

‘My duty. ‘I’ve told you, you’re not supposed to be let out alone.’

‘Let go my arm, please.’

‘You’re coming back with me.

‘I’m going to post my letter.’

Miss Ellison, without exerting herself much, gave Miss Mayfield’s arm a painful jerk which brought the address of the envelope into clear view.

‘So that’s the game, is it? Sneaking off . . . And look at that!’ She laughed in a coarse way. ‘Two and ninepence on a letter to Essex, and then you say you aren’t loopy.’

‘Canon Thorby may still be abroad; I didn’t wish to bother whoever had to send the letter on.’

‘Well, you can come back now; and if Mrs Mott-Tyler wants you to write, you can, but you’re posting nothing without her say-so.’

‘I will not be treated as though I were a lunatic,’ said Miss Mayfield fiercely. ‘Let go my arm, Miss Ellison. You’re hurting me.’