"Lot they care about anybody's brains. Drayton could have told Kitchener that we can't win this war without high-explosive shells. So could Nicky.
"You bet they've stuck all those plans and models in the sanitary dust-bin behind the War Office back door. It's enough to make Nicky blow his brains out."
"Nicky doesn't care, really," Veronica said. "He just leaves things--and goes on."
That night, after the others had gone to bed, Michael stayed behind with his father.
"It must look to you," he said, "as if I ought to have gone instead of Nicky."
"I don't say so, Michael. And I'm sure Nicky wouldn't."
"No, but you both think it. You see, if I went I shouldn't be any good at it. Not the same good as Nicky. He wants to go and I don't. Can't you see it's different?"
"Yes," said Anthony, "I see. I've seen it for some time."
And Michael remembered the night in August when his brother came to him in his room.