ABSTRACT
Sylvia thought about the matter very little, trusting Crispin, whose presence throughout the episode had been like a quilted cloak, preventing the sharp edges of it from touching her. She believed him, when he said that all was well: that she was not to blame: and that Noggins, friendly with the earth, had not been lonely. She did not fear the prospect of telling Henry, because Crispin, who was his friend, had promised to do so.
