There was no sign of the police.

.

.

.
Olva smiled at himself for the excitement that he was feeling.

He was standing at present with Lawrence on the edge of the Common, watching, but he was feeling irresistibly drawn towards the dark pile of wood that was rising slowly towards the sky.
"As though one were ten years old"-- and yet there was Lawrence murmuring, "I'd awfully like to hit somebody." And that, after all, was what it all came to.