I wrote to Loring that night, and received a reply six days later. Valentine had diagnosed his own case better than any of us, and the letter contained the news of his death. "It was instantaneous, I am glad to say," Loring wrote. "But a stray bullet, miles behind the line——! There's an awful perversity about this dreadful business."
After O'Rane left me at the Admiralty I received a message inviting me to join him and my uncle at the House for dinner. I had to decline, as I could not say how soon my work would be over, and I was preparing to dine alone at the flat when Sonia was announced.
"Come and join me," I said, but she hesitated at the door and shook her head.
"I've dined already, but I wanted to say good-bye. You know I've had to leave the hospital?"
"Do come in, Sonia," I said.
"D'you allow dogs in? I've brought Jumbo."
She opened the door to its widest extent and a vast St. Bernard squeezed past her and ambled up to my chair.
"My dear, where did you get him?" I asked. "I understood the mastodon was extinct."
"Darling, don't let him call you names!" she cried, throwing off her cloak and flinging her white arms round the great shaggy neck. "He was Tom's, and I've had him since—you know. Is David in?"
"He's dining at the House," I told her.