He had not proceeded far when he encountered Sir Rowland, who, having missed his attendant, had returned to look after him. Even the horns were easing into the concept and the woodwinds in the second movement were particularly well-orchestrated. Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well. Battle, murder, and sudden death—and an old chap like McClintock tuning his piano in the midst of it. “Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. Just what in the world was that about? Before he could hazard a guess, Lucy looked back at him. The young man looked at her. ’ ‘How could he when he didn’t even handle it himself? Went off, I told you, and left it all to me.
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