NOTHING OF IMPORTANCE
CHAPTER I
FIRST IMPRESSIONS
“Good-bye!”
“Good-bye. Don’t forget to send me that Hun helmet!”
“All right! Good-bye!”
The train had long ago recovered from the shock of its initial jerk; a long steady grinding noise came up from the carriage wheels, as though they had recovered breath and were getting into their stride for Folkestone, regardless of the growing clatter of the South-Eastern rhythm;—if, indeed, so noble a word may be used for the noise made by the wheels as they passed over the rail-joints of this distinguished line.
“Don’t believe it’s a good thing having one’s people to see you off,” said Terry, whose people had accompanied him in large numbers to Charing Cross.