It was all absurdly easy, but as I started down the lane I heard a mighty row and the sound of angry voices.

Someone had gone into the tub and I hoped it was Linklater.

I had taken a liking to the Fusilier jock.
There was the beginning of a moon somewhere, but that lane was very dark.

I ran to the left, for on the right it looked like a cul-de-sac.
This brought me into a quiet road of two-storied cottages which showed at one end the lights of a street.

So I took the other way, for I wasn't going to have the whole population of Muirtown on the hue-and-cry after me.