Ginger saw him first. Ginger gave a piercing yell and pointed down the road towards William’s reluctant form.
“There—he is!” he shouted. “He’s not dead.”
They all turned and gaped at him open-mouthed.
William presented a strange figure. He seemed at first sight chiefly compounded of the two elements, earth and water.
He turned as if to flee but the figure of the doctor could be seen running down the road from his house after him; following the doctor were the doctor’s wife, the infants’ mothers with the infants and Miss Polliter. Even at that distance he could see that the doctor’s face was purple with fury. Miss Polliter still looked bright and stimulated.
So William advanced slowly towards his gaping rescuers. “Here I am,” he said. “I—I’ve got out all right.”
He fingered the half-crown in his pocket as if it were an amulet against disaster.
He felt that he would soon need an amulet against disaster.
“Oh, where have you been?” sobbed his mother, “where have you been?”
“I got in a flood,” said William, “an’ then I lost my memory.” He looked round at the doctor who was running towards them and added with a mixture of fatalistic resignation and bitterness, “Oh, well, he’ll tell you about it. I bet you’ll b’lieve him sooner than me an’ I bet he’ll make a different tale of it to what I would.”