miscellany

271

burned; the men that were gallant and splendid, starve; the memories that were sacred are defiled; the great family that passed the torch from hand to hand sees its noblest and its best selling matches in the rain – but never so noble and never so good as then they are ....’ Mr Croyd had dropped his voice to say: ‘And that is the lot of the human race ....’

Humphry had felt himself on the unbearable point of tears... And suddenly Mr Croyd, looking hard at him, had sent him to ask Grimsdick to put him on the phone into communication with Scotland Yard so as to get figures - as nearly exact as might be – of the precise number of returned BEF men who were actually in the workhouses of the metropolis at the moment or had slept in casual wards the night before. Mr Croyd had said that Scotland Yard would get him the figures in a minute if they knew it was for the gutter press they were to work ....

Grimsdick, stolid, brown like a block of wood, was kneeling in the loft over the battered valise from which there appeared to pour a stream of sour-smelling, brown and distasteful, woollen, leather and metal detritus... Unmoved Grimsdick plunged his hands amongst these foul things that the boy hated for their memories... And slowly Grimsdick disentangled the mildewed strap, the triangular leather pouch with the distended nose...

Pilcer stretched out his hand and stood looking down at the nape of the heavy man’s neck. There was, above the collar a firm roll of flesh, brown and with short silver hairs... If the holster had not been closed!... the impulse was unbearable; irresistible, atrocious! ....

All the while he heard his own voice, quite calm, giving his message about telephoning. Yet there was an iron hoop that must... that must be burst!

For a hundred years the brown square man was rolling himself onto his feet. He said something about cleaning the revolver... He had saved his life by getting onto his feet. Humphry was breathing again. It appeared that the telephone was in another stable. God after all was good. He was to be alone for a little.

At the top of a little green painted platform from which green steps led down to cobbles, Humphry suddenly found himself emerging into bright sunshine; a profuse sweat poured down his face; his lips thanking God and going on thanking God .... Because Mr Grimsdick was descending the green steps swinging the holster at the end of the strap ....