Of those days while he lay here--of the days since--I seem to know now hardly anything in detail.

One of the officers at the front said to me that on the Somme he often lost all count of time, of the days of the week, of the sequence of things.

It seemed to be all one present--one awful and torturing _now_.

So it is with me.

Desmond is always here'-- he pointed to the vacant space by the window--'and you are always sitting by him.