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five-something train to town. Automatically I began
to pack in my usual vacillating but orderly manner;
then I remembered that it would make no difference
if I forgot all the things I needed most. By this time
to-morrow I shall be under arrest, I thought, gloomily
rejecting my automatic pistol, water bottle, and
whistle, and rummaging in a drawer for some khaki
socks and handkerchiefs. A glimpse of my rather dis-
tracted-looking face in the glass warned me that I
must pull myself together by to-morrow. I must walk
into the Orderly Room neat and self-possessed and
normal. Anyhow the parlourmaid had given my
tunic buttons and belt a good rub up, and now Aunt
Evelyn was rapping on the door to say that tea was
ready and the taxi would be here in half an hour. She
took my abrupt departure quite as a matter of course,
but it was only at the last moment that she remem-
bered to give me the bundle of white pigeons5
feathers which she had collected from the lawn, know-
ing how I always liked some for pipe-cleaners. She
also reminded me that I was forgetting to take my golf
clubs; but I shouldn't get any time for golf, I said,
plumping myself into the taxi, for there wasn't too
much time to catch the train.

The five-something train from Baldock Wood was
a slow affair; one had to change at Dumbridge and
wait forty minutes. I remember this because I have
seldom felt more dejected that I did when I walked
out of Dumbridge Station and looked over the fence
of the County Cricket Ground. The afternoon was
desolately fine and the ground, with its pavilion and
enclosures, looked blighted and forsaken. Here, in
pre-eminently happier times, I had played in many
a club match and had attentively watched the vary-
ing fortunes of the Kent Eleven; but now no one