He ate when it was distinctly necessary, and slept two hours out of the twenty-four.
He left nothing undone which he could do himself; his mind was unfavorable to chance. The heads of departments listened when he made suggestions, and found it convenient to answer with accuracy his sudden questions.
Subordinates hurried to obey his infrequent but final orders; and when Winn said, “I think you’d find it better,” people found it better.
The division slipped off like cream, without impediment or hitch.
There were no delays, the men acquired their kit, and found their railway carriages.
The trains swept in velvet softness out of the darkened London station through the sweet, quiet, summer night into a sleepless Folkestone. The division went straight onto the right transports; there wasn’t a man, a horse, or a gun out of place.
Winn heaved a sigh of relief as he stepped on board; his troubles as a staff officer had only just begun, but they had begun as troubles should always begin, by being adequately met. There were no arrears.
He did not think of Claire until he stood on deck and saw the lights receding and the shadow that was England passing out of his sight.
He remembered her then with a little pang of joy — for suddenly he knew that he was free to think of her.
He had thought of her before as a man registers a fact that is always present to him, but in the interval since he had seen her his consciousness of her had been increasingly troubled.