‘Bête. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. In the rush of commuters he did not see her boarding his train. For so far she had kept it uncashed. ‘This we will leave. I MUST pay off that forty pounds. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. He saw three people: a young man at the piano, an elderly man smoking in a corner, and a young woman reclining in a chair, her eyes closed. “We are not going the right way,” she exclaimed.
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