It was such a lovely night; we were all in the big, long window.

A little bat kept flying past; and behind the copper-beech the moon was shining on the lake.

Derek sat in the windowsill, and when he moved he touched me.

To be touched by him gives me a warm shiver all through.

I could hear him gritting his teeth at what Alan said--frightfully sententious, just like a newspaper: 'We can't go into land reform from feeling, we must go into it from reason.' Then Derek broke out: 'Walk through this country as we've walked; see the pigsties the people live in; see the water they drink; see the tiny patches of ground they have; see the way their roofs let in the rain; see their peeky children; see their patience and their hopelessness; see them working day in and day out, and coming on the parish at the end! See all that, and then talk about reason! Reason! It's the coward's excuse, and the rich man's excuse, for doing nothing.