Let me lie in Willesden churchyard. But as the students sat about Miss Garvice’s tea-pot and drank tea or smoked cigarettes, the talk got away from Capes. Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering. Of course, it was ridiculous, this inclination to assist the fugitive, based as it was upon an intangible university idea. Somebody to whom she would be necessary, who for days would have to depend upon her for the needs of life.
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