n at the wicket. Nothing had
ever seemed so easy as the bowling of the opposite side on this fine
June evening, and Michael tried to banish the thought of Barnes in the
spaciousness of these level fields. Stella was evidently being very
careful not to convey the impression that she had lately won a victory
over him. It was really ridiculous, Michael thought, as he plucked idly
the buttercups and made desultory observations to Stella about the merit
of a stroke by Alan, it was more than ridiculous, it was deliberate
folly to enmesh himself with such horrors as he had beheld at Leppard
Street. There were doubtless very unpleasant events continually
happening in this world, but willfully to drag one's self into misery on
account of them was merely to show an incapacity to appreciate the more
fortunate surroundings of one's allotted niche. The avoidance of even
the sight of evil was as justifiable as the avoidance of evil itself,
and the moral economy of the world might suffer a dangerous
displacement, if everyone were to involve themselves in such events as
those in which himself had lately been involved. Duty was owing all the
time to people nearer at hand than Barnes. No doubt the world would be
better for being rid of him; diseases of the body must be fought, and
the corruption of human society must be cleansed. Any pity for Barnes
was a base sentimentalism; it was merely a reaction of personal
discomfort at having seen an unpleasant operation. The sentimentalism of
that cry "Don't hurt him!" was really contemptible, and since it seemed
that he was likely to be too weak to bear the sight of the cleansing
knife, he must in future avoid the occasion of its use. Otherwise his
intellectual outlook was going to be sapped, and he would find himself
in the ranks of the faddists.

"I think I shall stay down here the rest of the summer, if I may," he
said to Stella.

"My dear, of course you can. We'll have a wonderful time. Hullo, Alan is
retiring."

Alan came up and sat beside them in the buttercups.

"I thought I saw you just as I was going in," he said. "Anything going
on in town?"

"No, nothing much," said Michael. "I saw a man arrested for murder this
afternoon."

"Did you really? How beastly! Our team's just beginning to get into
shape. I say, Stella. That youth working on old Rundle's farm is going
to be pret-ty good. Did you see him lift their fast bowlers twice
running over the pond?"

Michael strolled away to