‘Hearing what?’ He leaned forward a little, then looked at the vague rounded pallor of the face beside him, a mystery and an enchantment in its little darkness of eyes and lips.
‘Outside. A kind of rushing noise.’
‘I’d almost forgotten there was an outside. I can hear it now though. It’s getting louder.’
‘I should think it is. Sounds as if a river were coming down on us.’ She gave a little shiver. ‘What are you going to do?’
He was opening the door of the car. ‘I’m going to see what’s happening.’
‘It sounds as if you want something to happen. I believe you do. If you’re not careful, you’ll make it happen.’ There was a trace of real resentment in her tones.
He was out now on the floor of the shed, which sloped down towards the entrance. It seemed to be very wet. There was the noise of a great wash of water coming down, and already it seemed to be rushing past outside and creeping up the shed. It was difficult to see though, because the little lights of the car, which had been backed in at an angle, did not shine his way.
‘I say, Roger.’ Gladys was calling to him. It was queer to hear his Christian name like that, coming out of a dark place in a still unfamiliar voice. He felt as if he had suddenly dropped fifteen years and started over again. ‘If you’re going far, wait a minute,’ she went on, ‘because I’m coming with you.’
‘I’m not going far,’ he replied. ‘Hardly a step farther.’ The water was certainly coming into the shed; a flood had been loosed upon them from somewhere; there was the sound of a river roaring past. ‘Look out,’ he shouted. ‘I’m coming back.’ A sudden rush of water had swept round the corner like a little tidal wave. In a second it was nearly up to his knees, and the next moment he was climbing into the car again.
‘Look at that,’ he panted. ‘Water’s pouring into the place.’ She leaned across and looked through the open door, while he tried to squeeze the water out of the bottom of his trousers.