Amid the thunders of great crashing discords the individual note was almost unheard--but the individual note continued its vibrations.
The tone which expressed Donal Muir--in common with many others of his age and sex--was a novel and abnormal one.

His being no longer sang the healthy human song of mere joy in life and living.

A knowledge of cruelty and brutal force, of helplessness and despair, grew in him day by day.

Causes for gay good cheer and laughter were swept away, leaving in their places black facts and needs to gaze at with hard eyes.
"Do you see how everything has _stopped_--how nothing can go on ?" he said to Robin on their second meeting in the Gardens.

"The things we used to fill our time and amuse ourselves with--dancing and tennis and polo and theatres and parties--how jolly and all right they were in their day, but how futile they seem just now.