I then tried to press it down, but could not—a curious feeling, like pressing on a cushion of air.
He had by this time turned us right round, so that Honor was sitting where I had been before, and I was sitting or sometimes standing in her place. Then we were turned round again, and he seemed to want to knock the other table again; he went at it in a curious way. I had with one hand to remove a glass on it which I thought he would upset. He continued to edge against it, until he reached a book lying on it. This he knocked with such intention, that Honor asked him if he wanted it opened.
Yes.
[This was a scrap-book in which I collect anything about him—photographs, old and new; poems made about him, or sent to me in consolation; and it has his name outside, drawn on in large letters.—M. F. A. L.]
So I opened it, and showed him the photograph of himself seated in the 'Nagant.' [A motor-car which Alec had practically given him not long before the war, and with which he was delighted.]
Honor asked if he could see it, and he said Yes, and seemed pleased.
She asked if he could tell her what house it was standing in front of, and he spelt out—
ST. GERMINS.
[This was pretty good, as the name of the Jacques's house is 'St. Germains.']