I think it was Norah who asked her what on earth she was doing at
Fittleworth.
"Can't you see," she said, "that I'm waiting for the next train?"
"Did you walk here from Amershott, or what?" I said.
She said, "Rather not. I was in the train."
Then Norah said, "What happened?"
It had dawned on us both how odd it was that Viola should be here, apparently alone, at Fittleworth. It was also odd how we were all ignoring Charlie. I believe I had a sort of idea that she had got him hidden somewhere in the landscape.
Viola smiled a reminiscent smile. "If you must know," she said, "what happened was that Charlie was in that train, too—he came bursting out on to the platform at Selham, awfully pleased with himself, because he'd picked my luggage up at Midhurst and bagged a corner seat for me, and made faces at people to keep them out."
"Did you know he was going up to town?" I said.
"No, of course I didn't. He didn't know it himself. There was no reason why he shouldn't go. And you'd have thought there was no reason why we shouldn't go together. He was all right till we got to Petworth. But after that he lost his head and made such an ass of himself that I had to get out here and make him go on by himself. Silly idiot!"
We were sitting in the heather, one on each side of her, and I saw my wife slip her arm into hers and hug it to her.