It drifted out faintly in a slow and expressionless whisper.
"No, thank you," said William. "I don't seem to have been much good ... but there comes a time ... when nothing matters."
"Not even," asked the chaplain, feeling his way, "the sense that you have done your duty?"
"Most people do that," said William. "The question is ... if you've been much use when you've done it."
The chaplain, puzzled, said something of infinite mercy and the standard of God not being as the standard of man.
"If you've done your best..." he suggested.
"Most people do that," said William again ... and slid back once more into silence.
* * * * *
He was buried without mourners, save those detailed for the duty; who, none the less, stiffened in salute of his coffin and called him farewell on the bugle. His death, duly entered in the hospital books, was reported to the Casualty Department; and the Graves Registration clerks took note of his burial and filed it for possible inquiries.
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