He looked up and down, thought out the way to his club and shivered, thought out in misery the way back to Chelsea, the turning of his latch-key, the darkened rooms.

The house opposite was brilliantly lit up.

They seemed to be dancing there and the music of violins floated out into the darkness.

Even as he stood there, he felt the bands of self-control weaken about him.

A vision of the cold, grey days ahead terrified him.