. His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness. In reply to this summons a horn was instantly blown at the corner of the street. I thought—the papers said——” “You thought that I was dead,” he interrupted. The black clad students streamed slowly to their positions carrying their instruments like offerings to the pilgrimage. . Upon this island whither he was bound there would be no diversions, breathing spells; the battle would be constant. They were going up the slope into Waterloo Station. “But your sister?” he asked. He hated the taste of it.
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