e trench was
stormed and taken, owing to his personal daring and impetus and to the
affection and confidence he inspired.... We hear it continually said of
our officers and men that 'they're all the same,' and I daresay as far
as pluck goes they are. But, if I may say so, we all felt that your son
had something that we haven't got...."

* * * * *

Michael lay awake in the bed that had been his brother's marriage bed.
The low white ceiling sagged and bulged above him. For three nights the
room had been as if Nicky and Veronica had never gone from it. They had
compelled him to think of them. They had lain where he lay, falling
asleep in each other's arms.

The odd thing had been that his acute and vivid sense of them had in no
way troubled him. It had been simply there like some exquisite
atmosphere, intensifying his peace. He had had the same feeling he
always had when Veronica was with him. He had liked to lie with his head
on their pillow, to touch what they had touched, to look at the same
things in the same room, to go in and out through the same doors over
the same floors, remembering their hands and feet and eyes, and saying
to himself: "They did this and this"; or, "That must have pleased them."

It ought to have been torture to him; and he could not imagine why it
was not.

And now, on this fourth night, he had no longer that sense of Nicky and
Veronica together. The room had emptied itself of its own memory and
significance. He was aware of nothing but the bare, spiritual space
between him and Nicky. He lay contemplating it steadily and without
any horror.

He thought: "This ends it. Of course I shall go out now. I might have
known that this would end it. _He_ knew."

He remembered how Nicky had come to him in his room that night in
August. He could see himself sitting on the side of his bed,
half-dressed, and Nicky standing over him, talking.

Nicky had taken it for granted even then that he would go out some time.
He remembered how he had said, "Not yet."

He thought: "Of course; this must have been what he meant."

And presently he fell asleep, exhausted and at the same time appeased.

* * * * *

It was morning.

Michael's sleep dragged him down; it drowned and choked him as he
struggled to wake.

Something had happened. He would know what it was when he came clear out
of this drowning.

Now he remembered. Nicky was killed. Last