‘I talk too much,’ Miss Benson said. ‘But then I very seldom have anybody I can talk to, really. Look, take these. Little present. They’ll be useful on your date.’ She pushed into Miss Mayfield’s hand the things she had gone to the chemist’s to buy and had opened and used in the cloakroom of the Club.

‘I shouldn’t, really. You’re much too kind. But I will use them, I promise you. On special occasions.’

You see, she said to herself as she opened her door and closed it and was at last alone, this thing is poison. It creeps in and contaminates every relationship. I’m almost sure that that is a nice girl, that Mr Freeman is a nice man, but I daren’t act on that belief. What with that, and this nagging worry about Ethel, I wish the next eighteen days could be over. . . .

20

‘I’M REALLY QUITE CONCERNED ABOUT YOU,’ CANON Thorby said. ‘You don’t look a bit well. I hope you’re going to get away for half-term.’

‘I am indeed. I’m going to London.’ She forced her tired face into an expression of animation. He was right enough about her looks. The last days, worrying about Ethel and planning the immediate future, had been extremely trying. The nights, when imagination slipped its leash and seemed to enjoy presenting her with scenes of horror, had been even worse, until she had resorted to some little pink pills, a legacy of her illness; they made her sleep, but left her heavy-headed in the morning.

‘That will be a change, and a change, they say, is as good as a rest. Now, if you want a really pleasant, comfortable place to stay, I can recommend one.’

‘Thank you very much; but my friend – the one with whom I lived in Alchester – is joining me, and we are both staying with an aunt of hers. In Chiswick.’

‘Baxter will take you to the train on Thursday afternoon, and meet you on Monday evening. Unless, of course, you would like to prolong your break a day or two. That could easily be arranged. I am concerned about you; you look so frail.’

‘I know exactly what is wrong with me, Canon Thorby. I need glasses. I had my eyes tested last Saturday and was told that I was suffering a severe eyestrain, and that eyes in such condition would take the strength from any other part of the body. Did you know that? I didn’t. Mr Saunders told me of a case of chronic indigestion which had been cured by a pair of spectacles.’

‘If only you’d asked me! Saunders is not the best man. What a pity!’