Mr. Julian was at the front, safe so far, God be thanked, and Mr. Charlie had just been called up; but the fighting, so the grandmother said, would be over before ever he went to France.
Then, nourished afresh on new hopes, desires, and terrors, the children next door came back night after night in dreams.
Julian in uniform came suddenly into the library. He said:
‘I’ve come to say good-bye.’
‘Good-bye? Are you going back to the front?’
‘Yes. In a minute. Can’t you hear my train?’
She listened and heard the train-whistle.
‘Charlie’s going too—He’ll be here in a minute. Good-bye, Judith.’
She put out her hand and he took it and then bent down with a sort of grin and kissed her. He said:
‘That’s what men do when they’re going to the front.’