`It's day out there, can't we pull the curtains?'
`I suppose it is,' said Gerard, 'how ghastly!' He pulled back the curtains and let in the dreadful cold sunlight.
`I couldn't see Duncan anywhere, but I gather a lot of people are in the deer park.'
`They're not supposed to be.'
`Well, they are.'
Heavy uncertain footsteps were heard on the stairs. 'That must be Duncan,' said Jenkin, and opened the door.
Duncan blundered in and made straight for an armchair and fell into it with a crash. He stared up blankly for a moment. Then passed his hand over his face as Gerard had done earlier, frowned, and gathered himself. With an effort he sat up a little.
`Good heavens, you're soaking wet!' said Jenkin.
It was so. Duncan's trousers and part of'his jacket were drenched with water, muddy too, and muddy water was dripping darkly onto the carpet.
Duncan noticed this and said, 'Christ, what will Levquist say!'
`I'll deal,' said Gerard. He fetched two towels from the bedroom, gave one to Duncan, and with the other began to mop up the pool on the carpet, while Duncan dabbed at his clothes.
`I'm sloshed,' said Duncan. Then he explainedA fell in the river. Crazy!'
`I'm sloshed too,' said Jenkin sympathetically.
`Is that whisky? Can I have some?'
Jenkin poured out a small whisky and filled the glass up with water. Duncan took it with an unsteady hand.
More footsteps were heard on the stairs. It was Rose. She came in and saw Duncan at once. 'Duncan, dear, there you are, I'm so glad!' She could not think what to say to him next, so exclaimed, 'So you're all onto whisky, are you, no I won't have any! What's that mess on the floor?'
There was. Rose, tucking up her green dress, on her knees, began an artfuloperation with little doses of water and careful use of the towel, blending the muddy stain into the fortunately fairly dark and ancient carpet. 'I'm afraid we're messing up Levquist's towels, but the scout will replace them. Don't forget to tip him, Gerard.'
Someone was running up the stairs, stumbling in his haste, and now bursting open the door. It was Gulliver Ashe. Not immediately noticing Duncan he cried out his news. 'There's been such a to-do down there, they say that Crimond has thrown a man into nto the Cherwell!' Then he caught sight of' Duncan and the water scene and put his hand over his mouth.
`Go away, Gull, would you,' said Gerard.
Gull reeled away down the staires.
Gulliver had lost Lily Boyne; he was sorry about this, he had enjoyed dancing with her, yet he was not absolutely sorry since he had come to realise that although he had drunk nothing recently except a glass of champagne which he had discovered on the grass, he was once more feeling very drunk, and a little sick, and also extremely tired. Lily, who had in the course of dancing divested herself of her white blouse, which she had rolled up and thrown away among the dancers (where it was caught and appropriated by a young man) revealing a just decently extensive and lacy petticoat beneath, had also at last declared herself 'flaked' and gone to sit down. Gull had gone out to attend to a natural need and coming back had found her gone. It was after this that he had heard some people talking about Crimond. Expelled from Levquist's rooms he now began to wander, first round the cloister where he managed to acquire, although he didn't really want it, a glass of beer, and then out onto the main lawns between the tents.
It was now full daylight, the terrible inquisitional finalising daylight had come, sending away the enchanted forest and all upturned chairs, errant garments, and every sort of unattractive human debris. Even the tents, in the relentless sunshine, looked dirty and bedraggled. The blackbirds, thrushes, tits, swallows, wrens, robins, starlings and innumerable other birds were singing loudly, the doves were cooing and the rooks were cawing, and, nearer now, in the big trees of the deer park, came the hollow repetitive cry of the cuckoo. Dance music continued unabated however, sounding in the more open space of the high cloudless blue sky and surrounded by all that bird song, diminished and unreal. A queue was forming for breakfast, but a considerable number of people seemed unable to stop dancing, possessed by ecstasy or by a frenzied desire to maintain the enchantment, and to postpone the misery to come: remorse, regret, the tarnished hope, the shattered dream, and all the awful troubles of ordinary life. Gull would have liked some breakfast, the idea of bacon and eggs was suddenly extremely attractive, but he did not fancy waiting in the queue by himself, and he felt a more urgent and immediate need to sit down, preferably to lie down. He decided to rest for a short time and to come for the grub later when the crush was less. The desecrated littered grass was also scattered here and there with prostrate human figures, mostly male, some fast asleep. Making his way between these Gulliver even passed, though of course did not recognise, Tamar's cashmere shawl, now a stained screwed-up bundle, which had been used by someone to deal with a disaster to a bottle of red wine. A faint mist was hanging over the Cherwell. He found his way through the archway and out into the deer park. The park had been declared, for ecological and security reasons, out of bounds to the dancers. Now however, presumably since the dance was nearly over, the bowler-hatted guardians had melted away and couples were strolling here and there in the groves of trees… In the distance, in misty green glades, deer wandered and rabbits ran impetuously to and fro. Gulliver staggered on a little way, breathing the delicious fresh rivery early morning air and appreciating the untrodden grass. Then he sat down under a tree and fell asleep.
Tamar had at last found Conrad. For a while she had sat on a chair in one of the tents and actually slept for a short time. When she came out the sky was light and the sun had risen. The light was terrible. The skirt of her white dress had become mysteriously covered with grey smudges. She felt terrible, like an ugly ghost. She decided to comb her hair with her little comb, then accidentally dropped the comb and did not turn to pick it up. She walked slowly, for something to do and because she might attract more attention if she stood still. Everything about her looked unreal and appalling, the laughter and the music came to her in gusts like little blows, making her blink And frown. Her head drooped, her mouth drooped. She came io the pop tent where recorded music was still being played, was about to pass it, then looked in. In a second the world changed. There he was, Conrad, her tall fellow, leaping, smiling, twirling round and round by himself. Tamar was about to cry out and rush to him. Then she saw that he was dancing with Lily Boyne.
Tamar turned quickly away, raising her hand to shield her face, and began to run away across the grass. She raced, lifting her skirt, through the cloisters and on to the main gate and out into the High Street. The curving High was empty, beautiful, molemn, in the quiet early sunshine. Tamar made her way, desperately, like a fugitive, hurrying now not running. During leer run the strap of one of her sandals had snapped, and she harried on, skipping a little, limping a little, past the silent magisterial buildings which were glowing in the clear cool sunlight against the radiant blue sky. She felt cold, but the coat which, anticipating this chill daybreak, she had brought with her was locked up in Conrad's car. Fortunately, during i he whole nightmare of the dark hours, although she had lost hei shawl, she had not mislaid her little evening bag, with cosmectics, money, keys, which she had carried unconsciously looped onto her wrist. She rushed along, holding her dirtied skirt high, her dress crumpled, her hair uncombed, her face mipowdered, in the direction of the bus station. The few early passers-by saw her streaming tears and turned to a bus for London all the bells of Oxford were tolling six o'clock.
After Gulliver's departure, the four in the room did not look at each other. Rose brought the electric fire near to Duncan's soaked trousers, asked if it was too hot, and commented with a laugh at the steam which immediately began to rise. Duncan replied suitably, said really he was almost dry, not to trouble and so on. Jenkin and Duncan went on drinking whisky. It was agreed to be unfortunate that there was now nothing to eat, Gulliver was blamed for having eaten up all the sandwiches.Jenkin wished he had brought some chocolate, said he had intended to. Gerard and.jenkin discussed whether one of them should sally out to the breakfast scene and bring back Some sausages and bread. They wondered if they could now do this without having to queue. No decision was reached. They were all silently wondering if Jean would turn up and what on earth they were going to do if she did not.