Lydia picked up Leslie’s suitcase and followed her. She overtook Leslie at the door of her bedroom, put the suitcase on the floor, lighted the gas-fire for her and helped her off with her coat, for Leslie looked incapable of doing anything for herself.
“Cheer up,” said Lydia very kindly, thinking that conventional words of comfort would be as good as any other. “I’m perfectly sure you’ll get heaps of letters from Cecil soon. Probably he and Colin have met each other among the oranges if Colin has gone where I think he has.”
“I know something has happened,” said Leslie. “I can’t bear it. I know something has happened to Cecil. And I was beastly to Philip. I wish I were dead.”
She began to cry in a desolate way.
“Look here,” said Lydia, half-guessing what might have happened between Lesl
