“And we are to go boating and swimming and rock climbing,” he was saying. “And we will build sand forts and play cricket and climb trees and play pirates. Davy is going to be there-do you remember him, Mama, from years ago, before we came to Bath? And there is to be a boy called Alexander. And some girls-I remember Becky. Do you? And the little ones will need someone to play with them, and I will enjoy doing that. I like Daniel-he follows me around as if I were a great hero. Is he really my cousin?”

“No,” Anne said quickly. “But to him you are a hero, David. You are a big boy. You are all of nine years old.”

“It is all going to be such fun,” he said as they turned the corner from Sutton Street onto Daniel Street and knocked at the school doors. “Let me tell, Mama.”

And he proceeded to do just that to the elderly porter, who exclaimed in amazement in all the right places.

“Yes,” Anne said, meeting his eyes over her son’s head. “We are going to Wales for the summer, Mr. Keeble.”

David was already on his way upstairs to tell Matron the glad tidings.

“You are doing what?” Claudia Martin asked an hour later after the crocodile had returned to the school and resolved itself into a group of chattering girls, who all declared as they passed Anne on the stairs that she had missed a treat and that the Sally Lunn buns were so huge that they were sure they would not be able to eat another thing until morning.

Claudia’s question was rhetorical, of course, since she was not by any means deaf and the only other occupant of her private sitting room was Susanna, who was sprawled in a chair beside the fireplace recovering from the long walk in the summer heat. She was fanning her face with the straw bonnet she had just removed from her head.

Claudia, in contrast with the younger teacher, looked as cool as if she had spent the whole afternoon in this very room. She looked neat too, her brown hair drawn into a severe knot at the back of her neck.