I found absolutely nothing to say. It was as if I’d been preparing to walk down a long corridor that stretched before me, and had found, after I’d gone a yard, that a door was slammed in my face. I seemed to stare at blank walls in every other direction.... I’d better say something.... What was there?
“Thank you for letting me know.” Then, “As this has only lasted so much less than the time you said, I will send back to you my cheque for——”
“You will do nothing of the kind, please,” curtly. “I made the arrangement. I break it.”
“Yes, but that money——”
“I shall not take it, anyhow.”
“I shall send it somewhere, then,” I told him, and glanced round at the nearest group of grimy little Cockneys on the brown grass. “The Fresh Air Fund.”
“As you please.”
A pause. I was wondering if he meant me to say anything else. He began again. “I expect you guess my reason for this change of arrangement.”
“I think—I do,” I said.