A few minutes later I met Hugo in the ‘Breakfast Room’ of the hotel. There were other people there; about a dozen other officers, two or three women with them. We smiled faintly at each other, and sat down. Outside it was still dark, and an early morning fog obscured what lights there were. We drank hot coffee and ate fried bacon, and then again we went into the station.
The train was there this time. Hugo found a place and put his luggage in. Then we walked up and down on the platform till it was time to start. The morning was raw and chilly. The cold fog got into our throats and eyes. It seemed to enclose us in a deadened solitude; to shut out the world beyond; to muffle even the footsteps of the other waiting people.
‘It must not be so long till you come again, Hugo.’
And he looked at me with his odd little questioning smile.
‘Remember,’ I said suddenly, ‘you are going through with it. We have got to go through to the end.’
‘Yes,’ he replied quietly, ‘we have got to go on. I will, and you will too,’ and he turned abruptly to me.
I bent my head.
‘Yes, I will too, of course.’
‘Guy will be having leave soon,’ said Hugo.
‘Yes, and Mollie is coming home this summer.’