Through a blur of tears Ruth followed the rocking light until it vanished. But Manning seemed more and more clearly indicated as a refuge, as security. In those revolutionary times one had to be prepared. ‘Oh, my God, she’s gone!’ Wrenching his hand from his friend’s slackened grasp, he darted for the door, Roding behind him. ‘But you are idiot. She was in one of her old walking-dresses, her hair was done in an unfamiliar manner, she wore a wedding-ring, and she looked as if she had been crying. A distant suggestion of chalets and a glimpse of the road set them talking for a time of the world they had left behind. It had, as it were, blown up at the concussion of his first step. Why not? Quite willing.
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