Chapter 21

“Well—I kept a book-shop in London, and then—another book-shop in a Dorsetshire town. Then we had the war as an interlude, and my books remained on the shelves. I ceased to be a bookseller and conducted a tram. I have been in this billet for about seven years.” Lance stirred his tea. His face had a clouded look. “Didn’t they know?” “We had passed out of each others’ lives.” “But was there no—no effort?” “Your father did make an effort.” “I’m glad of that.” “But—he did not like my job. Quite natural. It did not insp…