10: Of Rhyme And Reason
CALLAGHAN stood leaning against the pillar box that stands in one corner of Fitzroy Square, looking uncertainly into the darkness. His head ached. The glands of his neck were still throbbing from the impact of Salkey's fingers.
He remained leaning against the pillar box for two or three minutes. The "All Clear" sounded. For some unknown reason the cheerful note had a tonic effect on Callaghan. He pushed himself away from the pillar box, began to walk towards Berkeley Square. By the time he arrived he felt almost human.
He went into the building, walked along the corridor to the night porter's office. Wilkie, his peaked cap over one eye, was busy studying a handbook of racing form. Callaghan said:
"Good-morning, Wilkie."
"Good-morning, Mr. Callaghan," said Wilki
