of a child who has burst its toy balloon. His
golden globe of satisfaction in an instant had gone. An irrational sense
of loss was flooding every other feeling about V.V. If she had loved him
truly and altogether could she have left him like this? Neither of them
surely had intended so complete a separation. He wanted to go back and
recall that train.

A few seconds more, he realized, and he would give way to anger.
Whatever happened that must not happen. He pulled himself together. What
was it he had to do now? He had not to be angry, he had not even to be
sorry. They had done the right thing. Outside the station his car was
waiting.

He went outside the station and stared at his car. He had to go
somewhere. Of course! down into Cornwall to Martin's cottage. He had to
go down to her and be kind and comforting about that carbuncle. To
be kind?... If this thwarted feeling broke out into anger he might be
tempted to take it out of Martin. That at any rate he must not do. He
had always for some inexplicable cause treated Martin badly. Nagged her
and blamed her and threatened her. That must stop now. No shadow of this
affair must lie on Martin.... And Martin must never have a suspicion of
any of this....

The image of Martin became very vivid in his mind. He thought of her as
he had seen her many times, with the tears close, fighting with her back
to the wall, with all her wit and vigour gone, because she loved him
more steadfastly than he did her. Whatever happened he must not take it
out of Martin. It was astonishing how real she had become now--as V.V.
became a dream. Yes, Martin was astonishingly real. And if only he could
go now and talk to Martin--and face all the facts of life with her, even
as he had done with that phantom Martin in his dream....

But things were not like that.

He looked to see if his car was short of water or petrol; both needed
replenishing, and so he would have to go up the hill into Exeter town
again. He got into his car and sat with his fingers on the electric
starter.

Martin! Old Friend! Eight days were still left before the Committee met
again, eight days for golden kindness. He would distress Martin by no
clumsy confession. He would just make her happy as she loved to be made
happy.... Nevertheless. Nevertheless....

Was it Martin who failed him or he who failed Martin?

Incessant and insoluble dispute. Well, the thing now was to go to
Martin.... And then the work!

He laughed