it had been put on with that in mind; but the situation, John thought, was not so easily to be played down.

When the voice stopped, abruptly, the immediate thought was that the set had broken down. Roger nodded to John, and he switched on the radio in his own car; but nothing happened.

'Their breakdown,' Roger said. 'I still feel hungry.

Think we dare risk another tin, Skipper?'

'We probably could,' John said, 'but until we get clear of the West Riding, I'd rather we didn't.'

'Fair enough,' Roger said. 'I'll move the buckle one notch to the right.'

The voice began suddenly and, with both radios now on, seemed very loud. The accent was quite unlike what might be expected on the B.B.C. - a lightly veneered Cockney. The voice was angry, and scared at the same time:

'This is the Citizens' Emergency Committee in Lon—

don. We have taken charge of the B.B.C. Stand by for an emergency announcement. Stand by. We will play an interval signal until the announcement is ready. Please stand by.'

'Aha!' Roger said. 'Citizens' Emergency Committee, is it? Who the bloody hell is wasting effort on revolutions at a time like this?'

From the other car, Olivia looked at him reproachfully.

He said rather loudly:

'Don't worry about the kids. It's no longer a question of Eton or Borstal. They are going to be potato-grubbers however good their table manners.'

The promised interval signal was played; the chimes, altogether incongruous, of Bow Bells. Arm looked up, and John caught her eye; those jingling changes were something that went back through their lives to childhood - for a moment, they were childhood and innocence in a world of plenty.