n the sphere of unguessed and highly
perturbing forces.

III

He left early. Lucas seemed to regard his departure as the act of a
traitor, but he insisted on leaving. And in spite of Lucas's great
social success he inwardly condescended to Lucas. Lucas was not a
serious man and could not comprehend seriousness. George went because he
had to go, because the power of an idea drove him forth. He had no
intention of sleeping. He walked automatically through dark London, and
his eyes, turned within, saw nothing of the city. He did not walk
quickly--he was too preoccupied to walk quickly--yet in his brain he was
hurrying, he had not a moment to lose. The goal was immensely far off.
His haste was as absurd and as fine as that of a man who, starting to
cross Europe on foot, must needs run in order to get out of Calais and
be fairly on his way.

At Russell Square he wondered whether he would be able to get into the
office. However, there was still a light in the basement, and he rang
the house-bell. The housekeeper's daughter, a girl who played at being
parlourmaid in the afternoons and brought bad tea and thick
bread-and-butter to the privileged in the office, opened the front door
with bridling exclamations of astonishment. She had her best frock on;
her hair was in curling-pins; she smelt delicately of beer; the
excitement of the Sunday League excursion and of the evening's dalliance
had not quite cooled in this respectable and experienced young creature
of central London. She was very feminine and provocative and
unparlourmaidish, standing there in the hall, and George passed by her
as callously as though she had been a real parlourmaid on duty. She had
to fly to her mother for the key of the office. Taking the key from the
breathless, ardent little thing, he said that he would see to the front
door being properly shut when he went out. That was all. Her legitimate
curiosity about his visit had to go to bed hungry.

In the office he switched on the lights in Haim's cubicle, in the
pupils' room, and in the principals' room. He enjoyed the illumination
and the solitude. He took deep breaths. He walked about. After rummaging
for the sketches and the printed site-plan of the town hall projected by
the northern city, he discovered them under John Orgreave's desk. He
moved them to Mr. Enwright's desk, which was the best one, and he bent
over them rapturously. Yes, the idea of entering for the competition
himself was a mag