of its notes, listening mutely to Miss Harrison's exasperated railings about her - Sylvia's - lack of aptitude, or even concentration. The room was darkened in winter by a large fir-tree pressing against - in windy weather tapping against-the window, and in summer even more so by holland blinds, half- drawn to preserve the threadbare carpet. To add to all the other miseries, Sylvia had to peer short- sightedly at the music-book, her glance going up and down between it and the keyboard, losing her place, looking hunted, her lips pursed. It was now the season of the drawn blinds, and she waited in the lane at the bus-stop, feeling hot in her winter coat, which her grandmother insisted on her wearing, just as she insisted on her music lessons. The lane buzzed in the heat of the late afternoon - with bees in the clover, and flies going crazy over some cow-pats on the road. helpless Since her mother's death, Sylvia had grown glum and sullen. She was a plain child, plump, mature for her eleven years. Her greasy hair was fastened back by a pink plastic slide; her tweed coat, of which, last winter, she had been rather proud, had cuffs and collar of mock ocelot. She carried, beside her music case, a shabby handbag, once her mother's. The bus seemed to tremble and jingle as it came slowly down the road. She climbed on, and sat down on the long seat inside the door, where a little air might reach her. On the other long seat opposite her, was a very tall man; quite old, she supposed, for his hair was carefully arranged over his bald skull. He stared at her. She puffed with the heat and then, to avoid his glance, she slewed round a little to look over her shoulder at the dusty hedges- the leaves all in late summer darkness. She was sure that he was wondering why she wore a winter's coat on such a day, and she unbuttoned it and flapped it a little to air her armpits. The weather had a threat of change in it, her grandmother had said, and her cotton dress was too short. It had already been let down and had a false hem, which she now tried to draw down over her thighs. "Yes,, it is very warm," the man opposite her suddenly said, as if agreeing with someone else's remark. She turned in surprise, and her face reddened, but she said nothing. After a while, she began to wonder if it would be worth getting off at the fare-stage before the end of her journey and walk the rest of the way. Then she could spend the money on a lolly. She had to waste

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