Marion kept down her eyes so that the other should not see that the eyeballs were strained with agony, and should think that she was a loose and conscienceless woman.  She hated doing this.  She liked Susan so much, and she was terribly lonely.  She would like to have thrown her arms round Susan’s neck and cried and cried, and told her how terribly difficult she found life, and how she hated people being nasty to her, and asked her if sometimes she did not long for a man to look after her.  But instead she sat there rigidly alienating her.  For she had seen that because Susan disliked her she was precipitating herself much more impulsively than she would otherwise have done into affection for the child whom she suspected was being maltreated by this queer woman in this queer house.  In any case she would have admitted Roger to her heart, for it was plainly very empty since the loss of her son, whom she had loved so dearly that she did not speak of him to Marion, but being slow of movement she might have taken her time over it; and it was necessary that these two should love each other at once.  At any moment Roger might understand his mummie hated him, and that would break his poor little heart, which she knew was golden, unless he had some other love to which to run.  She was so glad when she found herself seeing them off at Paddington, although it was a horrible scene.  Susan had primly, and with an air of refusing to participate in the spoils of vice, declined to let Marion buy her a firstclass ticket, so the parting had to take place in a crowded thirdclass compartment.  Roger shrieked and kicked at leaving her, and leaned howling from the window, while Marion said over and over again, “Mummy’s so sorry ... it’s only that just now she isn’t well enough to look after you both ... and Richard’s the eldest, so he must stay ... and you’ll be back ever so soon....  And there’s such lovely sands at Dawlish....”

All the people in the corner-seats had looked with distaste at this plain, ill-behaved child and had cast commending glances on Richard, who stood by her side on the platform, absorbedly watching the porters wheeling their trucks along, but always keeping on the alert so that he never got in anyone’s way.  She couldn’t bear that.  She wanted to scream out:  “How dare you look like that at this poor little soul who has been sinned against from the moment of his begetting?  Think of it, his mother hates him!”

She looked wildly at Susan for some comfort, but found her pink with grave anger.  Well, it was better for Roger that Susan should feel thus about her.  So she went on with these murmurs, which she felt the child might detect as insincere at any moment, until the green flag waved.  She watched the diminishing train with a criminally light heart.  Richard began to jump up and down.  “Mummie!  Won’t it be lovely—­just us two!”