It put me to sea without a compass." Clasping his hands behind his head, he leaned back against the carving of his chair, and fixed his gaze on the portrait of the English ancestress over the mantelpiece.

The firelight flickered over his firm, clear-cut features, over the sleek dark hair, which was brushed straight back from his forehead, and over his sombre smoke-coloured eyes in which a dusky glow came and went.

Margaret, watching him with her pensive smile, thought that she had never seen him look so "interesting." "We used to talk in those first days about the 'spiritual effect' of the war," he resumed dreamily, speaking more to himself than to his companion.

"As if organized violence could have a steadying effect--could have any results that are not the offspring of violence.
It is hard for me to talk about it.

I've never even tried before to put it into words; but we are both suffering from the same cause, I think.