The keeper, waiting at attention to be dismissed, watched everything narrowly, missing nothing. He went pale, with a sort of fear, when he saw Connie lifting the inert legs of the man in her arms, into the other chair, Clifford pivoting round as she did so. He was frightened.

“Thanks, then, for the help, Mellors,” said Clifford casually, as he began to wheel down the passage to the servants’ quarters.

“Nothing else, Sir?” came the neutral voice, like one in a dream.

“Nothing, good morning!”

“Good morning, Sir.”

“Good morning! it was kind of you to push the chair up that hill.⁠ ⁠… I hope it wasn’t heavy for you,” said Connie, looking back at the keeper outside the door.

His eyes came to hers in an instant, as if wakened up. He was aware of her.