“Well, good night, then,” she said. Her fine mouth was set. Roland had vaguely supposed that they might, or should, discuss progress now they were together, compare notes and discoveries. It was almost an academic duty, though he was, in fact, tired, by emotion and the cold. Maud’s arms were full of files, clasped against her like a breastplate. There was an automatic wariness in her look that he found offensive. He said, “Good night, then,” and turned away towards his own end of the corridor. He heard her behind him tap away into the dark.
