But he had not played for a long time.

Half-crowns had been very scarce on this last disastrous tour, and comrades who included golf in their horizon of human possibilities had been rarer.

When would he play again?
Heaven knew! So he looked wistfully, too, at his set of golf clubs.

He remembered how he had bought them--one by one.
"Do you want this on the dressing table ?" The nurse held up a little oblong case.
It was his make-up box, luckily tied round with string.
"Good heavens, no!" he exclaimed.

He wished he could have told her to burn it.