She shook her head. “Are you going downstairs?” she asked.
“Rather,” said Lewisham, with a vague intimation in his manner of the offence Smithers gave him.
He opened the glass door from the passage to the staircase. They went down one tier of that square spiral in silence.
“Are you coming up again next year?” asked Miss Heydinger.
“No,” said Lewisham. “No, I shall not come here again. Ever.”
Pause. “What will you do?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I have to get a living somehow. It’s been bothering me all the session.”
“I thought—” She stopped. “Will you go down to your uncle’s again?” she said.
“No. I shall stop in London. It’s no good going out of things into the country. And besides—I’ve quarrelled rather with my uncle.”
“What do you think of doing?—teaching?”