2.
Outside, the air was cold and crisp. Jill drew her warm cloak closer.
Round the corner there was noise and shouting. Fire-engines had
arrived. Jill's companion lit a cigarette.
"Do you wish to stop and see the conflagration?" he asked.
Jill shivered. She was more shaken than she had realized.
"I've seen all the conflagration I want."
"Same here. Well, it's been an exciting evening. Started slow, I
admit, but warmed up later! What I seem to need at the moment is a
restorative stroll along the Embankment. Do you know, Sir Portwood
Chester didn't like the title of my play. He said 'Tried by Fire' was
too melodramatic. Well, he can't say now it wasn't appropriate."
They made their way towards the river, avoiding the street which was
blocked by the crowds and the fire-engines. As they crossed the
Strand, the man looked back. A red glow was in the sky.
"A great blaze!" he said. "What you might call--in fact what the
papers will call--a holocaust. Quite a treat for the populace."
"Do you think they will be able to put it out?"
"Not a chance. It's got too much of a hold. It's a pity you hadn't
that garden-hose of yours with you, isn't it!"
Jill stopped, wide-eyed.
"Garden-hose?"
"Don't you remember the garden-hose? I do! I can feel that clammy
feeling of the water trickling down my back now!"
Memory, always a laggard by the wayside that redeems itself by an
eleventh-hour rush, raced back to Jill. The Embankment turned to a
sunlit garden, and the January night to a July day. She stared at
him. He was looking at her with a whimsical smile. It was a smile
which, pleasant today, had seemed mocking and hostile on that
afternoon years ago. She had always felt then that he was laughing at
her, and at the age of twelve she had resented laughter at her
expense.
"You surely can't be Wally Mason!"
"I was wondering when you would remember."
"But the programme called you something else,--John something."
"That was a cunning disguise. Wally Mason is the only genuine and
official name. And, by Jove! I've just remembered yours. It was
Mariner. By the way,"--he paused for an almost imperceptible
instant--"is it still?"
