called him David. He always seemed to be taking care of me.
My pupils left me one by one. I wondered if, perhaps, they heard the voices too. These used to bother me as I sat at the piano, suggesting pieces that I would never want to teach, and even, I could see, trying to make the pupil put down wrong notes in the bass.
"David" was with me one night when I was very miserable. I had had to refuse an invitation to Iolanthe because I did not know if these afwul molestations would leave me in peace. So I had refused, and when my teaching was over, I wandered through the twilight streets, taking consolation by haunting the second-hand bookshops. It was that night I decided on calling this friendly voice David—"Just David," he said to me.
So "Just David" and I wandered together. He was only a voice and no one knew that there was anyone but "just me" there walking along the streets, but we were talking together all the time and he comforted me greatly. I did so long for the lovely fairy music of Iolanthe and the sweetness of it haunted me and I had to gulp down a great feeling of disappointment when I thought of it.
I told David all about it. I think he had tried to protect me all the afternoon from the cruel people who pressed their consciousness into mine. It had been quieter and more easy to bear, but I had refused the invitation and could not go.
So "David" I called my protector, and the voices through the wall called him "David," too—they had great faith in David and took an interest in him.
I still confused him with Tony—and when Tony used to come and have tea with me I used to try and catch him out.
He would say something.
"I'm not alone, you know," I said, nodding my head in warning, "there's someone there."
"Oh, is Patrick there still?"
"Er—yes—Patrick—well no, I'm not sure if it is Patrick—it's David—just David," and I know I looked very searchingly into Tony's eyes.
But he only laughed and said I believed in fairies or something.
When Tony was in town he always came to see me on Sunday afternoons. His visits were never very long but just long enough for me to tell him little things about what was occurring and to hear from him how his collecting of books was going on.
I knew he was careless of his meals so I generally tried to have sandwiches or something a little more than afternoon tea for him.
