She said--it was when she knew no more than that my regiment was ordered to Egypt--she was blaming herself because I had resigned my commission, for which there was no need, because--and these were her words--because had I fallen, although she would have felt lonely all her life, she would none the less have surely known that she and I would see much of one another--afterwards." Feversham had spoken his words with difficulty, not looking at his companion, and he continued with his eyes still averted:-- "Do you understand?
I have a hope that if--this fault can be repaired,"-- and he pointed to the feathers,--"we might still, perhaps, see something of one another--afterwards." It was a strange proposition, no doubt, to be debated across the soiled tablecloth of a public restaurant, but neither of them felt it to be strange or even fanciful.

They were dealing with the simple serious issues, and they had reached a point where they could not be affected by any incongruity in their surroundings.

Lieutenant Sutch did not speak for some while after Harry Feversham had done, and in the end Harry looked up at his companion, prepared for almost a word of ridicule; but he saw Sutch's right hand outstretched towards him.
"When I come back," said Feversham, and he rose from his chair.

He gathered the feathers together and replaced them in his pocket-book.
"I have told you everything," he said.

"You see, I wait upon chance opportunities; the three may not come in Egypt.