"More than nine months," I replied.
"The war must have broken out soon after you came?"
"Yes," I replied. "I came in May."
"My sister is awfully frightened, and is constantly manufacturing schemes whereby the Germans can invade us, and she fancies that every stranger is a German spy. Have you, living so close to the cliffs for more than three-quarters of a year, ever seen anything of a German spy?"
I shook my head.
"Never seen a sign of a German spy, have you?"
Again I shook my head.
"There, Rachel," laughed the man, "surely that should quieten your fears."
A few minutes later they passed on, leaving me alone. I watched them follow the pathway which led close to my house, then they mounted the hill at the back, and were lost to my sight.
That night I went to bed early. I had exercised myself more than usual during that day, and felt rather tired, yet I could not sleep. I could not tell why it was, but my mind seemed abnormally active. Perhaps it was because the time allowed me by Dr. Rhomboid was fast drawing to a close. If he were right, I had not more than three months to live. I got up and lit a candle and looked in the glass. My cheeks were certainly pale and hollow, my hands and arms painfully thin, and yet I did not feel like a dying man. I remember blowing out the light and putting aside the curtain and looking out on the sea. There was no moon, but it was a wonderful night of stars, and I could see the long line of breakers as they rolled against the cliffs. The night was as still as heaven, not a breath of wind stirred. The very thought of war, of tumult, of the roar of big guns, seemed infinitely removed from me. The night contained the very genius of peace. I went back to bed again, and still I could not sleep. Hour after hour I lay restless. Why it was I could not tell, for on the whole I slept well.