The coal fire burned steadily with a brittle tinkling sound, as though flakes of glass were falling tiny distances. Far beneath something groaned at being moved. The train, the first time since the affair. The same boy might sit and throw more stones, one of which might hit his window appropriately. Or there might be a collision, trains were unlucky for him. They would rush through the quiet fields while the telephone wires dipped beside them, over rivers where the fish lay under the bank, through villages where Barwood was repeated, through towns that were not big enough, till they crawled into the biggest town of all, dirtied by all the work that was going on there. Far away a steamer whistled on a river, it was the first warning of change. He was so excited. The room was sticky with damp. The soft harping rain fell rustling, rustling, while from the eaves drops pattered down on to the window-sill. Feet climbing stair carpet and Mamma came in. “We’re off in half an hour. Is everything ready?” “Yes, I think so.” She went down the stairs, more slowly this time. Half-way down she paused to look at her watch, then hurried on. “William, they ought to be off now, if they are going to catch that train. Are all the labels on?” “Yes, madam.” One, two--five--seven, eight. Eight trunks. They were all there, piled on to two cars. Cars were so expensive to hire nowadays. Thirty shillings. Ruinous. “Get in, Janet, get in. You have got the money I gave you? Don’t forget to label them to Paddington. The stationmaster is expectin’ you, and I will be there soon, so you’ll be all right. Yes, drive away.” Janet waved to William. He had aged, he looked so worn standin’ by the door there. It was a terrible business gettin’ people off. “There they go, madam.” “Yes.” What did he mean? Of course they were going. What? “They have not stopped, William?” “No, madam.” Janet was a capable young thing and she had travelled, so she would be able to manage. Besides, Smith had promised to look out for her. “Are the labels on all the suitcases?” “Yes, madam.” “Well, we start in half an hour.” Half an hour. Now what had she forgotten? Everything must be in. And anyway, Dewars would send her the inventory, so that she could send for anythin’ she did not want to sell. They would come by the furniture vans. “William, if there is anything I find missin’, you will send it up in the vans with the furniture.” “Yes, madam.”