But Alice was afraid of him, and that was the lack of perfection he had always acknowledged privately in their long association. She was never really at ease with him. How awful if they had married and she had gone on feeling like that. Never sure, she said, exactly what he wanted. He had supposed that he wanted much the same sort of thing as other men—surely he had demonstrated that already, once or twice—but Alice had sensed a difference somewhere. And after taking another good look at George, he thought he saw. George must look simple enough, even to Alice. George had said with some satisfaction that he was not a romantic. But where would George be now without the few romantics who were still trying to hold the world together so that the Georges could go on living unmolested in their smug houses?

Anyway, Alice would have what she wanted soon, with no help from him. Alice was not his job. There was something else ... something waiting ... somewhere....

Paddington Station was just ahead of him. At sight of it, confusion vanished. Nuns Farthing. They had let it, with his room just as he had walked out of it that day two years ago. Of course they must have left the door locked. If they hadn’t he would see that they heard about it. If anyone had been allowed to go mucking about with his things....

That was it! Strangers were in possession down there. He had to get back. As for those people who had let the house and were living there, he could easily turn them out. A few manifestations, a few things going bump in the night, and they would pack up and leave, and he would have the place to himself again.

I suppose an old hand at this game would know how to get there without the railway, he thought, entering the booking-hall. Perhaps in a hundred years’ time I’ll learn how to transport myself through space on my own. But until I get the hang of it—well, anyway, I don’t need a ticket.

A train for Wells was leaving in ten minutes. Smiling, he slid past the man at the barrier and went down the platform where doors stood open all along the train. He chose a first-class non-smoking compartment as being likeliest to remain empty, and settled himself in the near corner seat with his back to the engine. This is doing the company out of twenty-four and ninepence, he thought with satisfaction.

“‘Ere you are, ma’am—No Smoking—’nk you, ma’am!”

A porter swung a neat dressing-case to the rack over Hilary’s head, assisted a nice old lady up the step, and pocketed his tip.