Roddy’s absence and his headache mattered terribly. She realized suddenly that it was chiefly because of seeing him that she had looked forward to the picnic; that she had hoped to watch him, to talk to him; that she had had a pang of dismay at his absence from the group by the door; that she had been secretly alert for his coming, in a fever for some mention of him until the very moment of starting; and that then a weight had descended; and that now the day was utterly ruined. After all, was she going to be obliged to live, to feel, to want again? Roddy was lying in the deserted house, on the red sitting-room sofa, with the blinds down. His forehead and closed eyes were contracted with his headache. He tossed his head and buried it in the cushions; and his hair got ruffled, and the cushions became more and more uncomfortable. He swore. You came in on tip-toe and knelt down beside him. ‘Roddy, I’ve come to see you,’ you whispered. ‘Oh, Judy, I’ve got such a headache and nobody cares.’ ‘Darling, I care. I’m so terribly sorry. I’ve come to make it better.’ You stroked his forehead with cool fingers, smoothed his pillows, gave him a drink and told him to lie still. ‘That’s better. Thank you, Judy. Do stay with me.’ It was bliss looking after him. He had ceased to withdraw himself and be proud: he was utterly dependent. You bent and kissed his forehead.... Martin broke in upon her dream, saying: ‘Quite comfortable, Judith?’ And after he had adjusted the wind-screen, explained to her some of the devices on the dash-board, looked round to see that the others were all right, he addressed himself with satisfaction to his driving again, resuming his one-sided muttered conversations with his car and with passers-by. ‘Now, now, come along, old lady ... that’s right.... What’s the matter with you? Got a pain?... Well done, old girl....’ ‘Now, my dear sir, what are you up to?... Put out your hand, Madam, before you turn corners like that.... Look out, you little brutes, spinning tops in the road. Lucky for you I didn’t run you clear over.... Oh, so you think you can race me, do you? Well, try, that’s all.’ As a variant he read the signposts aloud. Judith watched the deep-golden, dark-shadowed country slip by: its woods and fields wore a sullen empty look. They reached their destination at tea-time, and walked down the steep slope to the edge of Monk’s Water.