fancy they send you where it's most convenient."
I looked at him again, straight and unafraid in spite of the prophetic dulness of his eyes. So much youth, so many possibilities tossed among the chances of a war in which death is simple and kind! It was impossible not to forecast, not to question if he was to be the destination some days hence of a bullet or a shell fragment, or a gas attack, or a flash of this improved liquid flame.
To walk into that sort of thing for an indefinite period with your eyes open! No wonder they've largely given over shirking the hard facts in France.
Something lingering, wistful, nearly sentimental, coloured the farewell of one of the women. There was, it appeared, romance here. Some concession from her was to be expected, yet, when the train had started, when he had dropped to the platform after clinging perilously to the step until the last possible moment, she turned to the window with a sigh.
“Poor fellow!"
It was scarcely more than an echo of the sigh!
"I wonder. Oh, dear! I wonder."
No tears, no comfort, from the other woman, no further allusion to him — only an anxious dis-
