As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below. It’s awkward, but we’ll get round it somehow. He returned, blue towel in hand. Ann Veronica pushed aside a tea-cup and the vestiges of her strawberries and cream, and put her elbows before her on the table. Let me lie in Willesden churchyard. Sometimes it seemed to him that he was an impostor: that Ruth believed him to be one Howard Spurlock, when he was only masquerading as Spurlock. From then until four in the afternoon there was nothing to do—the whole island went to sleep. But the aunt seized her in her arms and rocked with her. “It is very, very difficult,” she continued, looking steadfastly at the ground.
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