Giant’s Bread · Book II · II · Chapter 2 2 3

III

Later in the evening Joe tapped at his door and was bidden to enter. Vernon was sitting, sprawled out in a chair. The book on musical instruments lay on the floor beside him.

“Hullo, Joe. God, what a beastly evening!”

“Did you mind it so much?”

“Didn’t you? It’s all wrong. What an ass Uncle Sydney is. Those idiotic jokes! It’s all so cheap.”

“H’m,” said Joe. She sat down thoughtfully on the bed and lit a cigarette.

“Don’t you agree?”

“Yes⁠—at least I do in a way.”

“Spit it out,” said Vernon encouragingly.

“Well, what I mean is, they’re happy enough.”

“Who?”

“Aunt Myra. Uncle Sydney. Enid. They’re a united happy lot, thoroughly content with one another. It’s we who are wrong, Vernon. You and I. We’ve lived here all these years⁠—but we don’t belong. That’s why⁠—we’ve got to get out of it.”

Vernon nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes, Joe, you’re right. We’ve got to get out of it.” He smiled happily, because the way was so clear. Twenty-one⁠ ⁠… Abbots Puissants⁠ ⁠… Music.