‘No, not everything.’

‘No tarradiddles?’

‘No-I wouldn’t do that.’

‘H’m.’ The black eyes looked very straight at Anne. They went on looking for a long time. In the end she said ‘H’m,’ again and got up.

‘Come into the other room and unpack for me,’ she said, and led the way.

Her bedroom was at the back of the house. It was untidy to the last degree. There were shawls, a dressing-gown, skirts, underclothes, all tossed, some on the bed, some on the floor. As Anne went about the business of picking them up and sorting them out, Miss Carstairs watched her from a seat on the bed. She took the same position as she had done in the chair, leaning forward with her hands on the stick, her chin propped on the handle, her eyes very bright and attentive. And all the while she talked.

‘ Ada ’s the worst packer in the world. The dresses will all have to hang, and one must just hope that the creases will come out. If Janet had had the sense to send you round yesterday it wouldn’t have been such a business. We must just hope for the best. Ever done anything like this before?’

‘Yes-I think so-’

‘But you don’t know if it was for yourself, or for someone else?’

‘I think it was for myself.’

‘What makes you think that?’

‘I don’t know-I think-’

‘Well, what do you think?’

Anne stood in the middle of the floor, but she wasn’t really there. She was packing a blue and silver dress. She saw it quite clearly for a moment. It was a lovely dress. The feel of it was in her hands, and then it was gone again. What she had in her hands was not blue and silver but black and gold-stiff black brocade with a gold pattern on it. Across the black and gold, black eyes were looking at her, searching, full of interest.

‘Well, what did you see?’

She had no thought but to answer truthfully.

‘I saw a blue and silver dress. I think it was mine.’

Miss Carstairs broke into harsh laughter.

‘Blue and silver? That would be pretty. And it would suit you-oh, yes, quite. You didn’t have it on, did you?’

‘No, I was lifting it-’ Her voice failed suddenly.

‘H’m. Often do that sort of thing?’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Oh, well, you had a blue and silver dress, and you’ve remembered it. There’s nothing so extraordinary about that. By and by you’ll remember everything. But don’t chase after it-that’s fatal. When it comes it will come-just like that, without any effort. But if you try for it, the mist will thicken and you’ll get nowhere at all.’ She nodded her head and said in a different voice, ‘That’s enough about that. Just get on with the unpacking.’

They got on with the unpacking, and when everything was neatly arranged Miss Carstairs put on a very handsome fur coat and a bonnet of black velvet with a wonderful steel ornament on one side, called for a cab, and took her way to the shops. She had pale grey gloves and pale grey shoes which she told Anne were only ‘ones’. She seemed very proud of this, and explained that she had them specially made for her as there was no demand for the size in a grown-up shoe. She seemed to be pleased with Anne’s society.

‘ Ada is nothing but a wet fish,’ she explained. ‘Of course she hasn’t any money, so she can’t spend any. It makes her the most tiresome company you can imagine on a shopping expedition. Quality means nothing to her-nothing at all. Cheapness is her one criterion of value, and the result is that I invariably spend at least twice as much as I mean to when I go shopping with her. Now you can urge me on, and when I’m urged on, the natural reaction is to draw back. Do you understand that?’

The question was so sharply put that it startled Anne. She coloured brightly and said, ‘No-yes-’ And then, ‘I think I do.’

They embarked on an orgy of shopping. Miss Carstairs wished to buy a carpet for her bedroom and stuff for curtains.

‘Twenty years I’ve had the old ones,’ she told the middle-aged man who served them. ‘Twenty years, and the stuff’s not worn out yet. It will do very nicely for my companion, and she’ll feel easier with that than she would with everything new, which she’d just think of as gross extravagance and be haunted in her dreams. I’m going to get a new carpet too, and she can have my old one. She’s too poor-spirited to enjoy a new one. As it is, she’ll be worrying over mine being too fine for me.’ She broke into deep laughter.

The man who was serving them thought to himself that she wouldn’t be the easiest person to be a companion to. He didn’t know if it was the young lady with her that she was talking about. If it was, he was sorry for her, for she hadn’t got an easy job-not an easy job at all. His feelings became intensified as he got out roll upon roll of flowered chintz, each fresh piece being greeted with ‘That’s very nice, that’s very nice indeed, but I’ll just see what else you have if you don’t mind.’

In the end she had selected six pieces, all of which she praised, but none of which could she decide upon, when, suddenly weary of her pastime, she chose a flowery affair with a pattern of foxgloves, and then proceeded to the acquisition of a plain dull purple for the carpet.

It was when they were leaving the department that they saw the young man in a grey suit. Miss Carstairs had given her address and detailed instructions as to the day on which the carpet and the stuff for curtains were to be sent off.

She had written a cheque, and the shopman was congratulating himself upon having done a useful morning’s work, when the good-looking young man crossed their path. He did not see them, his attention being taken up with the people he was with. Miss Carstairs looked at him across the room and gave a deep chuckle.

‘That’s funny,’ she said, ’that’s very funny indeed.’

Since she was obviously expected to comment, Anne did so. She asked, ‘What is amusing you?’ and received a reply which told her nothing.

‘Oh, ho, ho-it’s very funny indeed if you know what I know! But you don’t! No, my dear, you don’t-you don’t know anything at all!’

Anne laughed, because the tone was good-tempered. She laughed, and she looked where Miss Carstairs was looking and she nearly dropped, because she knew the face of the young man in grey. Just for a moment she knew him. Who he was, and what he had to do with her. Her head whirled. She put out her hand and it touched the counter-something strong and firm to lean against. She leaned there, and for a moment everything swung round her. Then her head cleared, her eyes saw. Everything round her was quiet, and the man in the grey suit wasn’t there. Miss Carstairs was looking in the direction where he had been. She had apparently not noticed Anne’s sudden faintness. She said, “That’s a young man who didn’t know which side his bread was buttered.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘I don’t know. I suppose I did know, but I’ve forgotten… Craddock-Crockett-oh, I can’t tell you, but it doesn’t matter.’

‘Do you know the people he was with?’

She oughtn’t to have gone on about it. Her voice wasn’t steady enough. She got one of those direct looks which seemed to walk in amongst her thoughts and take stock of them no matter whether the door was locked or not. She had a sense of ruthless enquiry.

The deep, rather harsh voice rang in her ears. ‘No, I don’t. Do you?’

The words were not loud, but they buffeted her. She said, ‘No,’ and thought how unconvincing it sounded.

‘You don’t know them?’

‘No, I don’t.’ This time she made herself meet the hard black eyes. She saw them snap.

‘Well, you nearly faint when you see some very ordinary people at the end of a room. If it wasn’t the women who upset you, then it was the man. What about it?’

Anne felt as if she knew nothing-not who she was, or why, or anything. She said, ‘I don’t know.’