I would walk about the streets, not daring to go anywhere.

As I climbed the stone steps to her flat I tried desperately to frame my words. There was no need. The bell rang hollow in the empty flat.

I stood looking blindly at her front door, wondering what to do next. My eldest brother was my only near relation in London, but I did not like him. Then I remembered my second cousin May. I knew she was the right person. She had Edwardianly dressed white hair, and had done much work for charity. When asked if she would like to be made a Dame she had refused, saying that she had many better things to spend twenty-five pounds on than the insignia which she would need for the ceremony.

Although I knew her so little I felt that she must be clever and wise. I hailed another taxi and drove to the Boltons.

As I walked up between the two stucco lions that guarded her door I was almost too frightened to think. Wills opened the door. She had the sour, grudging look that faithful maids often have. I asked hurriedly if my cousin was in. She nodded and disappeared into the dining-room, leaving me still standing in the hall, seething and trembling inside. I heard her talking to my cousin, and then the rather high, metallic answer, “Please ask him to come in.”

The door was held open for me. I steeled myself as well as I could, and walked in.

My cousin was sitting at the table with an auburn-haired woman. Papers were spread out in front of them; they were evidently busy.

“What a surprise to see you, Denton!” my cousin said. “This is nice, but why aren’t you at school! Hasn’t term begun yet?”

I gave her a desperate look. I knew what I had to say. There was no escape now.

“I didn’t go back to school. I took the train to Salisbury instead, and I’ve been away nearly five days.”

The auburn-haired woman looked at me, and I was angry because I thought her eyes twinkled. My cousin’s face had gone blank.

At last she said quietly, “But Denton, why did you do it?”

“I don’t know, I felt I couldn’t go back. I’ve always hated it. But what’s going to happen now?” I asked anxiously.

My cousin was still bewildered. “I must let your aunt and brother know that you’re safe,” she said slowly.

It was the auburn-haired woman who relieved the tension.

“Let’s all have lunch and think afterwards,” she said gaily.

I smiled at her nervously and thankfully, and my cousin rang the bell.

We talked through lunch as naturally as we could, but there were long pauses. I could not eat much; the food seemed to stick and get coated on the sides of my throat.

Afterwards, while we were drinking our coffee by the fire, my cousin wrote out two telegrams. Both said.

“Denton safe with me. May.”

Wills went out to send them off. From the window I saw her going down the steps in her tight navy-blue hat and her narrow fur collar.

That’ll bring them all down on me, I thought. I turned away and got ready to go out myself to buy the things my cousin suggested that I needed.

The Kensington streets were grey and blurred and the lights were already on in the little chemist’s shop. I bought a face-flannel and a comb, and then wandered farther down the street. At the corner there was a flower-booth covered with cornflowers and those pink shop roses which have such long stalks and seem always to be smothered in dew.