Tietjens hesitated for a moment.
"Yes!" he said eventually. "Yes, I want to go."
For the moment he had felt temptation to stay. But it came into his discouraged mind that Mark had said that Sylvia was in love with him. It had been underneath his thoughts all the while: it had struck him at the time like a kick from the hind leg of a mule in his subliminal consciousness. It was the impossible complication. It might not be true; but, whether or no, the best thing for him was to go and get wiped out as soon as possible. He meant, nevertheless, fiercely, to have his night with the girl who was crying downstairs. . . .
He heard in his ear, perfectly distinctly, the lines:
"The voice that never yet . . .
Made answer to my word . . ."
He said to himself:
"That was what Sylvia wanted! I've got that much!" The dark man had said something. Tietjens repeated:
"I'd take it very unkindly if you stopped my going . . . I want to go."
The dark man said:
"Some do. Some do not. I'll make a note of your name in case you come back . . . You won't mind going on with your cinder-sifting, if you do? . . . Get on with your story as quick as you can. And get what fun you can before you go. They say it's rotten out there. Damn awful! There's a hell of a strafe on. That's why they want all you."