She said at last:
‘Oh yes. It means something. I don’t know yet how much. I’m afraid now I’ve missed a lot.’
They were all silent, and she thought with nervous dread that they were all thinking of Jennifer.
‘Isn’t it extraordinary,’ said another, ‘how time seems to have stood still in this place? Nothing’s moved since we’ve been here. Even though I suppose it’s all been advancing towards the Tripos, I don’t feel as if there’d been any step forward. Everything—what’s the word?—static. Or else just making circles. I feel I’ve been sitting in a quiet safe pool for three years.’
‘And now we’re going to be emptied out.’
And swept into new life, thought Judith longingly. Yet her heart misgave her. The building, caressed with sunset, looked motherly and benign, spreading its sheltering breast for the last time above its midgets. New life might find nothing so secure and tranquil as its dispassionate protection.
The clock struck the hour pensively.
‘Well, I think it’s beastly,’ said one. ‘I’m going in to finish packing.’
Where, on this calm lime-scented last evening, was Jennifer?