There had been already in
Peter's life, Frosted Moses, Stephen, Mr. Zanti, Noah Monogue, and now
suddenly there was Maradick. These were people who would not laugh at his
terror of Scaw House, at his odd belief that his father was always trying
to draw him back to Treliss....
As he entered the supper-room and saw Clare sitting at a distant table, he
knew that his wife would never be an Explorer. For her Fires and Walls, for
her no questions, no untidiness moral or physical--the Explorer travelled
ever with his life in his hands--Clare believed in the Stay-at-homes.
The great dining-room was filled with Stay-at-homes. One saw it in their
eyes, in the flutter of useless and tired words that rose and fell; all the
souls in that room were cushioned and were happy that it was so. The Rider
on the Lion was beyond the Electric Lights--on the dark hill, over the
darker river, under the stars. Somebody pulled a cracker and put on a paper
cap. He was a stout man with a bald head and the back of his neck rippled
with fat. He had tiny eyes.
"Look at Mr. Horset," cried the woman next to him--"Isn't he absurd?"
Peter found at the table in the corner Alice, Clare, Millicent and Percival
Galleon, Tony Gale and his wife, waiting. There was also a man standing by
Alice's chair and he watched Peter with amused eyes.
He held out his hand and smiled.
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