Miss Hardcastle set off at once. Jane saw her stand for a few seconds on the fringes of the crowd and then disappear into it. The two girls hesitated and then followed. Jane sat down on a doorstep. The burns were painful where her dress had rubbed against them, but what chiefly troubled her was extreme weariness. She was also deadly cold and a little sick. But, above all, tired; so tired she could drop asleep almost . . .
She shook herself. There was complete silence all about her: she was colder than she had ever been before and her limbs ached. “I believe I have been asleep,” she thought. She rose, stretched herself, and walked down the desolate lamp-lit alley into the larger street. It was quite empty except for one man in a railway uniform who said “Good morning, miss” as he walked smartly past. She stood for a moment, undecided, and then began to walk slowly to her right. She put her hand in the pocket of the coat which Daisy and Kitty had flung round her before leaving the flat and found three-quarters of a large slab of chocolate. She was ravenous and began munching it. Just as she finished she was overtaken by a car which drew up shortly after it had passed her. “Are you all right?” said a man, poking his head out.
“Were you hurt in the riot?” said a woman’s voice from within.
“No . . . not much . . . I don’t know,” said Jane stupidly.
The man stared at her and then got out. “I say,” he said, “You don’t look too good. Are you sure you’re quite well?” Then he turned and spoke to the woman inside. It seemed so long to Jane since she had heard kind, or even sane, voices that she felt like crying. The unknown couple made her sit in the car and gave her brandy and, after that, sandwiches. Finally they asked if they could give her a lift home. Where was her home? And Jane, somewhat to her surprise, heard her own voice very sleepily answering,
“The Manor, at St. Anne’s.” “That’s fine,” said the man, “We’re making for Birmingham and we have to pass it.” Then Jane fell asleep at once again, and awoke only to find herself entering a lighted doorway and being received by a woman in pyjamas and an overcoat who turned out to be Mrs. Maggs. But she was too tired to remember how or where she got to bed.
Eight
I
“I am the last person, Miss Hardcastle,” said the Deputy Director, “to wish to interfere with your-er-private pleasures. But, really! . . .” It was some hours before breakfast-time and the old gentleman was fully dressed and unshaven. But if he had been up all night, it was odd that he had let his fire out. He and the Fairy were standing by a cold and blackened grate in his study.
“She can’t be far away,” said Fairy Hardcastle. “We’ll pick her up some other time. It was well worth trying. If I’d got out of her where she’d been-and I should have got it if I’d had a few minutes longer-why, it might have turned out to be enemy headquarters. We might have rounded up the whole gang.”
“It was hardly a suitable occasion . . .” began Wither but she interrupted him.
“We haven’t so much time to waste, you know. You tell me Frost is already complaining that the woman’s mind is less accessible. And according to your own metapsychology, or whatever you call the damned jargon, that means she’s falling under the influence of the other side. You told me that yourself! Where’ll we be if you lose touch with her mind before I’ve got her body locked up here?”
“I am always, of course,” said Wither, “most ready and-er-interested to hear expressions of your own opinions and would not for a moment deny that they are, in certain respects, of course, if not in all, of a very real value. On the other hand, there are matters on which your-ah-necessarily specialised experience does not entirely qualify you . . . An arrest was not contemplated at this stage. The Head will, I fear, take the view that you have exceeded your authority. Trespassed beyond your proper sphere, Miss Hardcastle. I do not say that I necessarily agree with him. But we must all agree that unauthorised action “
“Oh, cut it out, Wither!” said the Fairy, seating herself on the side of the table. “Try that game on the Steeles and Stones. I know too much about it. It’s no bloody good trying the elasticity stunt on me. It was a golden opportunity, running into that girl. If I hadn’t taken it you’d have talked about lack of initiative: as I did, you talk about exceeding my authority. You can’t frighten me. I know bloody well we’re all for it if the N.I.C.E. fails: and in the meantime I’d like to see you do without me. We’ve got to get the girl, haven’t we?”
“But not by an arrest. We have always deprecated anything like violence. If a mere arrest could have secured the-er-goodwill and collaboration of Mrs. Studdock, we should hardly have embarrassed ourselves with the presence of her husband. And even supposing, merely, of course, fox the purpose of argument, that your action in arresting her could be justified, I am afraid your conduct of the affair after that is open to serious criticism.”
“I couldn’t tell that the bucking car was going to break down, could I?”
“I do not think,” said Wither, “the Head could be induced to regard that as the only miscarriage. Once the slightest resistance on this woman’s part developed, it was not, in my opinion, reasonable to expect success by the method you employed. As you are aware, I always deplore anything that is not perfectly humane: but that is quite consistent with the position that if more drastic expedients have to be used then they must be used thoroughly. Moderate pain, such as any ordinary degree of endurance can resist, is always a mistake. It is no true kindness to the prisoner. The more scientific and, may I add, more civilised facilities for coercive examination which we have placed at your disposal here, might have been successful. I am not speaking officially, Miss Hardcastle, and I would not in any sense attempt to anticipate the reactions of our Head. But I should not be doing my duty if I failed to remind you that complaints from that quarter have already been made, though not, of course, minuted, as to your tendency to allow a certain-er-emotional excitement in the disciplinary or remedial side of your work to distract you from the demands of policy.”
“You won’t find anyone can do a job like mine well unless they get some kick out of it,” said the Fairy sulkily.
The Deputy Director looked at his watch.
“Anyway,” said the Fairy, “what does the Head want to see me now for? I’ve been on my feet the whole bloody night. I might be allowed a bath and some breakfast.”
“The path of duty, Miss Hardcastle,” said Wither, “can never be an easy one. You will not forget that punctuality is one of the points on which emphasis has sometimes been laid.”
Miss Hardcastle got up and rubbed her face with her hands. “Well, I must have something to drink before I go in,” she said. Wither held out his hands in deprecation.
“Come on, Wither. I must,” said Miss Hardcastle.
“You don’t think he’ll smell it?” said Wither.
“I’m not going in without it, anyway,” said she. The old man unlocked his cupboard and gave her whisky. Then the two left the study and went a long way, right over to the other side of the house where it joined on to the actual Blood Transfusion Offices. It was all dark at this hour in the morning, and they went by the light of Miss Hardcastle’s torch-on through carpeted and pictured passages into blank passages with rubberoid floors and distempered walls and then through a door they had to unlock, and then through another. All the way Miss Hardcastle’s booted feet made a noise, but the slippered feet of the Deputy Director made no noise at all. At last they came to a place where the lights were on and there was a mixture of animal and chemical smells, and then to a door which was opened to them after they had parleyed through a speaking tube. Filostrato, wearing a white coat, confronted them in the doorway.