Were there many like that, I wondered.
When I tried on my boots they seemed to me to squeeze me. Was there a pad in the heel? I put in my hand but brought nothing out. I should have to squash the counter to make it more pliable.
No business called me out-of-doors. My list of errands had been exhausted the day before. What friend should I go to see? They would all be running about the town in the excitement and emotion of departures and farewells. I would go and dine with Laquarrière this evening, that would be enough for me. I had made up my mind that the streets would look just as commonplace as they had yesterday, and I should get all the information I wanted from the newspapers.
I stayed quietly at home, looking through my papers and reading over some old letters. The idea of making my will occurred to me.... But, when once I was gone, what would it matter to me?
My friends in the regiment would have laughed if they had known to what I had been tempted to consecrate my day, ever since I woke up. I went and fished up a book in a grey cover from the bottom of my book-case; my old Handbook for Non-Commissioned Officers.
I had not opened the book since the beginning of my military service, not even when I had been put in command of a section. It was quite possible, to-day, in view of the deficiency of officers, that I should be given a commission.
So I lunched at home. I got through almost the whole of the book; for instance the "Section in Action," and "Field Operations," "Alimentation," and "Hygiene," such chapters as I agreed with in letter and in spirit. But with what disdain did I skip everything concerning peace time or even garrison duty.
Towards evening, somebody rang the bell: Laquarrière.
I greeted him with, "A good idea, old fellow! I was coming round to say good-bye."