"Yes—a regiment of troops returned from a glorious campaign, and the doctor took us to see the illuminations and rejoicings. We came to a great piazza almost as large as the piazza of St. Peter's, with fountains and a tall column in the middle of it."
"I know—Trafalgar Square!"
"Dense crowds covered the square, but we found a place on the steps of a church."
"I remember—St. Martin's Church. You see, I know London."
"The soldiers came in by the big railway station close by...."
"Charing Cross, isn't it."
"And they marched to the tune of the 'British Grenadiers' and the thunder of fifty thousand throats. And as their general rode past, a beacon of electric lights in the centre of the square blazed out like an aureole about the statue of a great Englishman who had died long ago for the cause which had then conquered."
"Gordon!" she cried—she was losing herself every moment.
"'Look, darling!' said the doctor to little Roma. And Roma said, 'Papa, is it God?' I was a tall boy then, and stood beside him. 'She'll never forget that, David,' he said."
"And she didn't ... she couldn't ... I mean.... Have you ever told me what became of her?"