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'You'll find her terribly ill；' she said。
I went to Marchmain House on the first morning of peace。 Sir Adrian Porson passed me in the hall； leaving； as I arrived； he held a bandanna handkerchief to his face and felt blindly for his hat and stick； he was in tears。
I was shown into the library and in less than a minute Julia joined me。 She shook hands with a gentleness and gravity of a ghost。
'It's sweet of you to e。 Mummy has kept asking for you； but I don't know if she'll be able to see you now； after all。 She's just said 〃good…bye〃 to Adrian Porson and it's tired her。'
'Good…bye？'
'Yes。 She's dying。 She may live a week or two or she may go at any minute。 She's so weak。 I'll go and ask nurse。'
The stillness of death seemed in the house already。 No one ever sat in the library at Marchmain House。 It was the one ugly room in either of their houses。 The bookcases of Victorian oak held volumes of Hansard and obsolete encyclopedias that were never opened； the bare mahogany table seemed set for the meeting of a mittee； the place had the air of being both public and unfrequented； outside lay the forecourt； the railings； the quiet cul…de…sac。
Presently Julia returned。
'No； I'm afraid you can't see her。 She's asleep。 She may lie like that for hours； I can tell you what she wanted。 Let's go somewhere else。 I hate this room。'
We went across the hall to the small drawing…room where luncheon parties used to assemble； and sat on either side of the fireplace。 Julia seemed to reflect the crimson and gold of the walls and lose some of her warmness。
'First； I know； mummy wanted to say how sorry she is she was so beastly to you last time you met。 She's spoken of it often。 She knows now she was wrong about you。 I'm quite sure you understood and put it out of your mind immediately； but it's the kind of thing mummy can never forgive herself … it's the kind of thing she so seldom did。'
'Do tell her I understood pletely。'
'The other thing； of course； you have guessed … Sebastian。 She wants him。 I don't know if that's possible。 Is it？'
'I hear he's in a very bad way。'
'We heard that； too。 We cabled to the last address we had； but there was no answer。 There still may be time for him to see her。 I thought of you as the only hope； as soon； as I heard you were in England。 Will you try and get him？ It's an awful lot to ask； but I think Sebastian would want it； too； if he realized。'
'I'll try。'
'There's no one else we can ask。 Rex is so busy。'
'Yes。 I heard reports of all he's been doing organizing the gas works。'
'Oh yes；' Julia said with a touch of her old dryness。 'He's made a lot of kudos out of the strike。'
Then we talked for a few minutes about the Bratt's squad。 She told me Brideshead had refused to take any public service because he was not satisfied with the justice of the cause； Cordelia was in London； in bed now； as she had been watching by her mother all night。 I told her I had taken up architectural painting and that I enjoyed it。 All this talk was nothing； we had said all we had to say in the first two minutes； I stayed for tea and then left her。
Air France ran a service of a kind to Casablanca； there I took the bus to Fez； starting at dawn and arriving in the new town at evening。 I telephoned from the hotel to the British Consul and dined with him that evening； in his charming house by the walls of the old town。 He was a kind； serious man。
'I'm delighted someone has e to took after young Flyte at last；' he said。 'He's been something of a thorn in our sides here。 This is no place for a remittance man。 The French don't understand him at all。 They think everyone who's not engaged in trade is a spy。 It's not as though he lived like a Milord。 Things aren't easy here。 There's war going on not thirty miles from this house； though you might not think it。 We had some young fools on bicycles only last week who'd e to volunteer for Abdul Krim's army。
'Then the Moors are a tricky lot； they don't hold with drink and our young friend； as you may know； spends most of his day drinking。 What does he want to e here for？ There's plenty of room for him at Rabat or Tangier； where they cater for tourists。 He's taken a house in the native town； you know。 I tried to stop him； but he got it from a Frenchman in the Department of Arts。 I don't say there's any harm in him； but he's an anxiety。 There's an awful fellow sponging on him … a German out of the Foreign Legion。 A thoroughly bad hat by all accounts。 There's bound to be trouble。
'Mind you； I like Flyte。 I don't see much of him。 He used to e here for baths until he got fixed up at his house。 He was always perfectly charming； and my wife took a great fancy to him。 What he needs is occupation。'
I explained my errand。
'You'll probably find him at home now。 Goodness knows there's nowhere to go in the evenings in the old town。 If you like I'll send the porter to show you the way。'
So I set out after dinner； with the consular porter going ahead lantern in hand。 Morocco was a new and strange country to me。 Driving that day； mile after mile； up the smooth； strategic road； past the vineyards and military posts and the new； white settlements and the early crops already standing high in the vast； open fields； and the hoardings advertising the staples of France … Dubonnet； Michelin； Magasin du Louvre … I had thought it all very suburban and up…to…date； now； under the stars； in the walled city； whose streets were gentle； dusty stairways； and whose walls rose windowless on either side； closed overhead； then opened again to the stars； where the dust lay thick among the smooth paving stones and figures passed silently； robed in white； on soft slippers or hard； bare soles； where the air was scented with cloves and incense and wood smoke … now I knew what had drawn… Sebastian here and held him so long。
The consular porter strode arrogantly ahead with his light swinging and his tall cane banging； sometimes an open doorway revealed a silent group seated in golden lamplight round a brazier。
'Very dirty peoples；' the porter said scornfully； over his shoulder。 'No education。 French leave them d