And when she was gone Edred sat down on the box at the foot of his bed and tried to think.
But it was not easy.
"I ought to go," he told himself.
"But think of your father," said something else which was himself too.
He thought so hard that his thoughts got quite confused. His head grew very hot, and his hands and feet very cold. Mrs. Honeysett came in, exclaimed at his white face, felt his hands, said he was in a high fever, and put him to bed with wet rags on his forehead and hot-water bottles to his feet. Perhaps he was feverish. At any rate he could never be sure afterwards whether there really had been a very polite and plausible black mole sitting on his pillow most of the day saying all those things which the part of himself that he liked least agreed with. Such things as—
"Think of your father.
"No one will ever know.
"Dickie will be all right somehow.
"Perhaps you only dreamt that about Dickie being shut up somewhere and it's not true.
"Anyway, it's not your business, is it?" And so on. You know the sort of thing.
Elfrida was not allowed to come into the room for fear Edred should be ill with something catching. So he lay tossing all day, hearing the black mole, or something else, say all these things and himself saying, "I must go.
"Oh! poor Dickie.
"I promised to go.
