He swung round at last, like a man who turns away from the extinguished footlights of an empty theatre, and began retracing his steps across the field. His dominant sensation, as he performed this retreat, was a singular one. He felt as if his consciousness were already ensconced like Banquo’s ghost at the Otters’ table, while some quite alien force was dragging across the field a numb, inert, apathetic human body, that raised one leaden foot after the other.