He went off. The wasps were still buzzing, but the interruption had broken the spell. I felt a sense of relief. I became conscious of intense weariness and felt ashamed of my fears. I cursed the German aeroplanes and thought, "Let them do their worst, I don't care." I made up my mind to go to sleep and resolutely buried my face in my pillow. Then it occurred to me that I would never be able to enjoy Paradise Lost again, and I was half-amused and agreeably distracted by the trivial thought.
But the wasps were still buzzing. Another man began to groan loudly:
"Gawd—this is bloody awful—why the bloody 'ell can't they leave us alone!"
Thereupon his neighbour tried to create an impression by appearing calm and philosophical. He said in a strained, breaking voice:
"Think of all the waste in life and treasure this frightful war involves. Think of the moral degradation. Think of the widows and orphans. Think of the...." He was unequal to the effort and his voice trailed away and then seemed to catch in his throat. But he recovered and with a kind of gasp he squeezed out a few more words: "Bill, forgive me for insulting you to-day—I didn't mean it, Bill. Forget it, Bill, forget it! If you get killed without forgiving me, my conscience will always torture...."
"For Christ's sake shut up, yer bleed'n' 'ypocrite," interrupted the gruff voice of "Bill" somewhere out of the darkness. "Yer always bleed'n' well preachin'—it's bad enough 'avin' Fritz over us without you bloody well rubbin' it in. If yer don't shut yer mouth, I'll come over an' shut it for yer, 'struth I will."
The philosopher said no more, but another voice made itself heard, that of a good-natured, elderly bachelor, who said with melancholy resignation:
"It's jolly hard, all the same, to be knocked out like this. You're so helpless—no dug-outs, no shelters anywhere...."
"It's doubly hard when you're married," said another. "I haven't got the wind up about myself at all, but I can't help thinking about my wife.... They're going away now, thank the Lord. You never know when they won't be coming back though—that's just the worst of it."
The noise of the propellers was indeed dying away.