al instincts that he can't control." He narrowed
his eyes and bent forward, looking at me intently, and he repeated the
phrase slowly--"Physical instincts that he can't control-"

Was he referring to the incident of yesterday? I thought so. I also
believed it was the motive power of this strangely intimate
conversation.

He rose again as though restless, and once more went to the window and
seemed to seek inspiration or decision from the sight of my roses.
After a short while he turned and dragged up from his neck a slim chain
at the end of which hung a round object in a talc case. This he
unfastened and threw on the table in front of me.

"Do you know what that is?"

"Yes," said I. "Your identification disc."

"Look on the other side."

I took it up and found that the reverse contained the head cut out from
some photograph of Betty. After I had handed back the locket, he
slipped it on the chain and dropped it beneath his collar.

"I'm not a damned fool," said he.

I nodded understandingly. No one would have accused him of mawkish
sentiment. The woman whose portrait he wore night and day next his skin
was the woman he loved. He had no other way of proving his sincerity
than by exhibiting the token.

"I see," said I. "What do you propose to do?"

"I've told you. The V.C. or--" He snapped his fingers.

"But if it's the V.C. and a Brigade, and perhaps a Division--if it's
everything else imaginable except--" I snapped my fingers in
imitation--"What then?"

Again the hateful twitch of the lips, which he quickly dissimulated in
a smile.

"I'll begin to try to be a brave man." He lit another cigarette. "But
all that, my dear Meredyth," he continued, "is away from the point. If
I live, I'll ask you to forget this rotten palaver. But I have a
feeling that I shan't come back. Something tells me that my particular
form of extermination will be a head knocked into slush. I'm absolutely
certain that I shall never see you again. Oh, I'm not morbid," he said,
as I raised a protesting hand. "You're an old soldier and know what
these premonitions are. When I came in--before I had finally made up my
mind to pan out to you like this--I felt like a boy who has been made
captain of the school. But all the same, I know I shan't see you again.
So I want you to promise me two things--quite honourable and easy."

"Of course, my dear fellow," said I rather tartly, for I did not like
the wind-up of his sentence. It was unthinkab