He had come awake with that picture in his mind of Harry Keogh, clutching Jamieson’s folded sheet of A4, heading off across the schoolyard of milling boys in the direction of the back gate under the stone archway; then of the boy crossing the dusty summer lane and passing in through the iron gates of the cemetery. And Hannant had believed that he knew where Harry was going.
This is a long section from Hannant's POV, it makes me wonder as to his role in the future of the story. A lot of authorial investment.
