'Don't worry about me, Daddy, said Miranda. 'And don't worry about Mummy either. She'll be all right.

'God! I hope so, said Randall. It sounded so weak. He looked up at her. Yes, she was changed. She was already a separate being, a possible judge.

'You know, Mummy will be relieved too, said Miranda.

'It's better to have a horrid thing than to have it hanging over you. And mummy will manage. She's awfully tough really. She hums all the time. I thought at first she was crying, but it was only humming.

God, I can't bear this, thought Randall. 'I'm glad you think she'll manage. I hope she'll be happier. I know you'll look after her. I am a swine, he thought; but this thought too was resolved into, poor me; and he felt near to tears.

'Mummy won't be happy, it's not her thing, said Miranda. 'But she's brave, and I think she's good. She spoke judiciously.

This must stop, thought Randall. He said, 'How are you in other ways, Miranda? How's school getting on?

'Very well, thank you, Daddy.

I'm a bloody travesty of a father, thought Randall. There was a sudden sound behind him, and he turned with a sick jump of the heart; but it was only a pigeon which had alighted at the sunny loft door. Miranda laughed. A swallow passed, and another almost above their heads began its long jumbled song. 'I suppose no one's likely to come here, are they? said Randall. 'No one saw you on the way?

No, said Miranda. The only person who might come is Penn, but I told him I was going to the churchyard to feed Steve's birds and he wasn't to come, so he'll be mooching around at the gate waiting for me to come back. He's got quite soppy about me, it's so funny! She laughed again.

'Really? I hope you keep him in order! Impertinent little puppy, he thought. And at the juxtaposition, so carelessly made by Miranda, of Penn's name with Steve's, his heart swelled. Life had been unjust to him, terribly unjust.

'Oh, don't worry! said Miranda. 'I just twist his tail. You will write to me a lot, won't you?

'Of course, my bird. I'll write ever so much. And you must write too. But you'll be with me half the time, anyway.

'I suppose Mummy will be my legal guardian: said Miranda. 'But of course she wouldn't prevent me from seeing you.

She seemed to have thought of everything: and in his gratitude for her calmness Randall had occasion to think too that she was, almost, making too little of his predicament. 'We shall see each other a lot.

We can't do without each other, can we? , 'Don't write to me at the Bowshotts', said Miranda. 'You shouldn't have done that. It's so undignified. You surely don't think that Mummy would open a letter addressed to me?

'Well, no, said Randall. 'It was just that letter —’

'You must write quite frankly. 'You know that no one will see your letters except me. And I'll burn them if you like.

In her remarkable grasp of the situation, her expert reassurance of him, Randall felt again the curious sense of being bundled off. He said, 'You're wonderful, Miranda. I can't tell you how grateful I am. He put his Ann round her knees and looked up into the pale steady face of his child.

Again, as if she did not want to be moved or softened, she pushed him off. 'When you go away now, will you never come back? Randall took a deep breath. He was certainly being put through it.

Never was a long time. He said, evading it in his thought, 'I suppose that's it.

'Never after today?

There was no avoiding it. 'Never after today.

'I can pack up your papers and stuff, you know, said Miranda. She had thought of that too. 'Thank you. But we can see about all those things later.

'I've brought you something to take away now, she said. She took up a parcel which had been lying on the other side of her on the beam, next to her dolls, and put it into his hand.

Randall took it with surprise. It was soft and light. 'Is it a present?

'No — it's something of your own. Look and see! She seemed pleased with herself. Randall undid the string and began to pull the paper apart. The parcel contained the toy animals Toby and Joey. He turned and leaned against the beam, burying his face in his hands. The toys fell to the floor.

Miranda jumped down. She picked them up and dusted them and put them beside her dolls. 'There, Daddy, there. Don't take on so! Don't be, upset! You've got to help me not to be upset, haven't you? Don't, Daddy, don't!

'Christ in heaven, said Randall. He laid his cheek against the rough wood. A whole world of innocence was broken and gone forever. His world. Miranda's world. 'I'm sorry.

'Don't keep saying you're sorry, Daddy. Everything will be all right. Now do stop or I shall cry.

He straightened himself and picked up the toys again. Miranda was standing close beside him, so slender, older, taller. He said, 'I should like you to keep one of them for me. There, I'll give you Joey. That will make sure that we meet often. Because Joey must come and visit Toby, mustn't he?

'Of course! And now, Daddy, I think I'd better go back, in case Mummy's wondering where I am.

Randall looked at her as she stood there, Joey under one Ann, the dolls a-swing from her other hand, and he saw her, almost objectively, as a beautiful young girl. Her face seemed to have changed so much, even since he last saw her, to have formed, to have hardened. It was as if she had already had, in some indefinable but crucial form, experience. And where could experience have come to her; he half proudly wondered, but somehow from himself? He had, somehow, touched her consciousness and made her, beautifully, older. Soon she would be ready for love: and as he thought prophetically of the suffering which she would inflict, and how she would doubtless suffer herself at the hands of the god, he shook his head over her, sadly, but still with pride.

'Come along, my dear, she said. She had never used such words before. He wanted to embrace her, but could not. He kissed her hand. It was a strange gesture.

From the open loft door, as they moved towards the stairs, he saw, across the vegetable garden, the back facade of Grayhallock, flat and formal, its windows like so many eyes. The shadow of one of the towers stretched almost to his feet. He looked at the house, and the house looked back, cold, distant and preoccupied. It had never cared for him and Ann. A swallow rushed past his head, startling him into motion again; and as he descended the stairs he remembered his mother and her endlessly repeated questions about the swallows in the days when she was dying. That had been this spring and these swallows. But it seemed already that she had been dead for years.

'Don't be afraid of meeting Mummy, said Miranda. 'She's inside trying out a new flower arrangement. She's decided to enter the flower arrangement competition after all. Clare Swann is furious! The flower arrangement competition! How he had hated and despised it all. Yet now he felt an agonizing sense of exclusion. Never is a long time.

'That's good. Thank you, Miranda, thank you from my heart. You're sure you're all right yourself? I've been talking about me all the time.

'I'm fine. Oh, I didn't tell you, I met Emma Sands when she was down here. I had such a good talk with her. I think she's an awfully interesting person.

Emma again. Randall heard the name with nausea. The bloody woman cropped up everywhere. Emma talking to Miranda, Emma seducing Miranda: the idea was intolerable. Even here Emma had pushed in. Would he never be allowed to forget her? 'Yes, she is, isn't she? But you must run along. I'll write to you very soon, Miranda. I'll write tomorrow. Don't worry about me.

'And don't worry about me either. Good-bye, Daddy. Good luck. He took her hand again, looking into her face. Her lip trembled now. She looked away from him, shook her head, and then jerked from him and ran off towards the house.