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myself.’
    ‘Well, for God’s sake don’t commit it during the 440,’ said Griffin, ‘I’m backing Stevens for a record. Will anyone offer me three to one against? None? Have you no sporting instincts? Two to one, then?’
    ‘Done,’ said Wrench.
    On which immoral note this chapter may very well close.

II
    Lyric and Elegiac
    ‘
In the morning, in the morning
,
    In the happy field of hay
’
    was lilting in Michael’s mind as he hurried out of the buildings, having seen every one sitting down safely to lunch and made appropriate excuses for his own nonattendance. The kitchen windows did not give on to the hayfield. Of course, there might be a servant wandering about in the classrooms at the back. Well, if they see us, they see us. Let them. It’s about time we had a showdown. The possibility gave Michael a warm, excited feeling inside, like brandy. He was a natural fatalist – the type of person who, rather lacking in personal initiative, welcomes the feeling of having definite action imposed upon him by circumstances. He gave one look at the blank rows of windows and stepped quickly through the gap in its walls into the haystack.
    Hero was there already, in a green dress, with a packet of sandwiches at her side. She was fresh and straight as the green corn. Michael drew her down and kissed her, with the scent of hay in his nostrils. A little stream of wind flowed into their sanctuary, blowing her golden hair against his cheek.
    ‘Darling, you
are
crazy. You’ll be asking me to meet you under Percy’s study table next.’
    ‘Do you mind?’
    ‘I love you, my sweet.’
    ‘I think you’d better stop kissing me now. I want to eat my lunch. There are some sandwiches here for you, too.’
    ‘But “I on honey dew have fed”.’
    ‘My dear, you are lovely. No one else could carry off a remark like that.’
    ‘Leaving that aside for a moment, what explanation have you given to the authorities for this picnic?’
    ‘I told Percy that I wanted to have my lunch out in the sun. He’s used to my fantastic behaviour by now.’
    ‘You know, I feel rather bad, the way we talk about him – as though he was your aunt, or a dog, or something.’
    ‘Yes, I suppose it is rather awful. Of course, I’ve never loved him; but since I have loved you, I do feel much more kindly to him. It sounds very wicked, somehow, but there it is.’
    ‘Just like a woman, making the best of both worlds.’ He spoke lightly, but was aware that some hidden motive of antagonism or jealousy had caused the words. She felt it, too.
    ‘Darling, that was a cruel thing to say.’
    He took her hand, with a quick impulsive gesture.
    ‘I know. I’m sorry, my beautiful. But why, why did you marry him?’
    ‘Panic: sheer panic. Michael, you don’t know what a craving women have at times for comfort, reassurance, the feeling of firm ground beneath one’s feet.’
    ‘And now you’ve gone out of your depth again.’
    ‘But I feel different now. I’ve got you beside me, and it makes me seem buoyant and much stronger. I don’t think I could be a coward again, unless you stopped loving me.’
    ‘Hero, you’re much braver than I am.’
    ‘I don’t know. One can’t really tell till the emergency comes along, can one? I wish sometimes that some crashing big one would turn up, and cut this tangle we’ve got tied up in.’
    Michael stroked the feathery down of her arm; said tentatively: ‘What do you think about this divorce business? Would Percy –?’
    ‘Dear, we’ve had this out before. I’m not sure, but I think it’s a thing he would be hopelessly obstinate over. And anyway, I’m not going to ruin your career.’
    ‘My career!’ broke in Michael bitterly: ‘an assistant master in a preparatory school. God help us! Don’t you understand that if I was prime minister, poet laureate, admiral of the fleet, and editor of the
Times
, I’d rather have my career ruined by you than live without you. The trouble is, I’ve no money: none