"Oh, Major Lyveden, isn't it? Yes, sir. Six 'Lightnin'' mattocks, it was. I sent you a card, sir, three weeks ago. I've got the six on one side for you, sir."
"I'll take them now."
"Certainly, sir." He turned to an assistant and gave directions.
Then: "Excuse me, sir. Jim!"
A boy came at a run.
"Fetch me that envelope off of the top o' my blottin'-pad. It's pinned there." He turned to Lyveden. "When you was 'ere last time, sir, you dropped your ticket. I kept it by, in case you come in again, thinkin' you might be glad of it. It ain't six months yet, sir, since you was 'ere, so it's still good."
A moment later Lyveden was looking fixedly at the return half of a third-class ticket which had been issued at Chipping Norton.
"Thanks," he said slowly, slipping it into his pocket. "I'm much obliged."
He paid for the goods and waited whilst a taxi was fetched.
Then he followed the mattocks into the cab, and told the surly driver to go to Paddington….
Five hours later he staggered, rather than walked, along the wasted track and up to the cottage door.