fairy story he'd been told once, of a tower of silence, with the moon rising up one side and setting on the other, and in it was a silver Prince who had everything he wished for except the sound of a voice. He forgot what had happened to the Prince, but he saw the tower, its rising and falling moon, and the unmoving hands of the clock, with the Prince looking over the tower. If only his mother would say to him, "Richard, I'll tell you about your father now," he could bear anything she might tell him; for it must be something to bear. One day he would know, of course, he would insist upon knowing; but as yet he could not face his mother's steady look. And so thinking, he caught again the glimpse of the gliding beam and, feeling miserable now, stretched himself, rose, and walked on.
—But why walk so quickly, since he had the whole day? His mother had given him leave to roam as he would, with a packet of egg sandwiches and a stick of American chocolate; soon he would find a spot from which he could see things passing, and eat his lunch. Devil's Wood, that would be the place, for at the top of the wood were cross-roads and carts went by, farm wagons, sometimes fast motors; he could time them over the exact quarter-mile from the post-office to the cross-roads, proud of his silver watch that ticked off the seconds so loudly.
Half way to the wood he heard a voice and saw a schoolfellow approaching. "Hullo, Alexander"—"Hullo, Clyne!" for a mo- ment exhausted the intelligence of the twain; and then Richard said, "You haven't gone away yet, then?"
"No, hang it, we can't go for a day or two. They've got measles down in Cornwall and we've got to find a fresh place. When are you going?"
Richard was resentfully evasive. "I don't quite know yet . . . my mother—where are you going now?"
"Anywhere," and the two moved on together. They had never been great friends, for Richard didn't quite like young Boney, as Alexander was called. Young Boney was an awkward-looking, pallid, fat boy, suspected of Jewishness mainly on account of a nose which was thought conclusive evidence in spite of voluble denials and protests. His nose, thick lips, dark eyes, and pallid fleshiness gave the lie to his assertions; even his unvarying good nature argued against him.
"I'm going to leave after next term," said Boney; "my father
