curious question: "How long d'you think you'll be
away?"

"D'you mean how long do I think the War will
last?"

Somehow she had not thought of her question quite
in that sense. "Yes: I suppose that is what I do
mean."

"I think it will be a long war. It will certainly
last a year -- perhaps a good deal longer."

He walked over to the window nearest the door.
Standing there, he told himself that he was looking
perhaps for the last time on the dear, familiar scene
before him: on the green across which high elms now
flung their short morning shadows; on the encompassing
houses, some of exceeding stateliness and
beauty, others of a simpler, less distinguished character,
yet each instinct with a dignity and seemliness
which exquisitely harmonised it with its finer fellows;
and finally on the slender Gothic loveliness of the
Cathedral.

"I'm trying to learn this view by heart," said Major
Guthrie, in a queer, muffled voice. "I've always
thought it the most beautiful view in England -- the
one that stands for all a man cares for, all he would
fight for."

Mrs. Otway was touched -- touched and pleased too.
She knew that her friend was baring to her a very
secret chamber of his heart.

"It _is_ a beautiful, peaceful outlook," she said
quietly. "I was thinking so not long before you came
in -- when I was sitting here, reading the strange,
dreadful news in today's paper."

He turned away from the window and looked at

[[104]]

p103 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p104w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p105

v?