He had nothing else to do.
But the party broke up early in September.

The flautist was detained a few days at a country house, for the amusement of the guests.

Then he left for London.
In London he found himself at a loose end.

A certain fretful dislike of the patronage of indifferent young men, younger than himself, and a certain distaste for regular work in the orchestra made him look round.
He wanted something else.

He wanted to disappear again.