‘Now, do you leave me here,’ he said. ‘Take half an hour’s quiet rest. He will be glad of a dull old fellow like me when he wakes. And as for my pretty bride, if I miss the train, she must wait till the next. Good discipline, my dear. Oh, dear me! _I_ don’t change. What a precious experience now this would have been for a tottery, talkative, owlish old parochial creature like me. But there, there. Light words make heavy hearts, I see. I shall be quite comfortable. No, no, I breakfasted at home. There’s hat and umbrella; at 9.3 I can fly.’ Mrs Lawford thanked him mutely. He smilingly but firmly bowed her out and closed the door. But eyes and brain had been very busy. He had looked at the gutted candle; at the tinted bland portrait on the dressing-table; at the chair drawn-up; at the boots; and now again he turned almost with a groan towards the sleeper. Then he took out an envelope, on which he had jotted various memoranda, and waited awhile. Minutes passed and at last the sleeper faintly stirred, muttering. Mr Bethany stooped quickly. ‘What is it, what is it?’ he whispered. Lawford sighed. ‘I was only dreaming, Sheila,’ he said, and softly, peacefully opened his eyes. ‘I dreamed I was in the—’ His lids narrowed, his dark eyes fixed themselves on the anxious spectacled face bending over him. ‘Mr Bethany! Where? What’s wrong?’ His friend put out his hand. ‘There, there,’ he said soothingly, ‘do not be disturbed; do not disquiet yourself.’ Lawford struggled up. Slowly, painfully consciousness returned to him. He glanced furtively round the room, at his clothes, slinkingly at the vicar; licked his lips; flushed with extraordinary rapidity; and suddenly burst into tears. Mr Bethany sat without movement, waiting till he should have spent himself. ‘Now, Lawford,’ he said gently, ‘compose yourself, old friend. We must face the music—like men.’ He went to the window, drew up the blind, peeped out, and took off his spectacles. ‘The first thing to be done,’ he said, returning briskly to his chair, ‘is to send for Simon. Now, does Simon know you _well?_’ Lawford shook his head. ‘Would he recognise you?... I mean...’ ‘I have only met him once—in the evening.’