ful as a girl. Warned that the other
man had lost his memory, the wounded aviator was pityingly careful not
to ask questions. He talked cheerfully about his own adventures, and
said that he had been "at home" on leave only a week ago.

"At home!" Denin echoed. "What was it like--over there?"

"Awfully jolly," said Severne. "Not that they don't care, or aren't
thinking about us, every minute, night and day. But you know how our
people are. They make the best of things; they have their own kind of
humor--and we understand. Fact is, I--went over to get married. I
suppose--er--you never knew the Lacy-Wilmots of Devonshire? They're
neighbors of ours. I married the second daughter, Evelyn. I--we had two
days together."

"You were lucky," said Denin.

"Think so? Well, we didn't look at it like that. I wrote to her this
morning. Hope she'll get the letter."

"Some fellows had only an hour or two with their brides, I heard,"
Denin said, almost apologetically.

"That's true," said Severne. "Jove! There are shoals of war brides,
poor girls, and as brave as they make 'em, every one!"

"What about--the war widows?" Denin ventured, stumbling slightly over
the words.

"They're brave too, all right. But I expect there are some broken
hearts. Not all, though, by any means. Damn it, no! Lady Denin, for
instance. Did you ever hear of her? I mean, did you ever hear of John
Denin? _They_ had about an hour of being married before he went off
with the first lot in August, poor chap."

"What about Denin?"

"Oh, you didn't know him, then? Why should you? I didn't myself, but he
belonged to one or two clubs with my brother Bob. I may have seen him
myself. Awfully fine chap. Everybody liked him, though he was close as
a clam--no talker. Came into a ripping place and piles of oof a few
years ago. Not much on looks, though he was an A1 sportsman and
athlete. Girls thought him a big catch. I've heard plenty say so. Well,
he married an American girl, a beauty, the day he left for the front,
and about a fortnight later she was a widow with everything he had,
made over to her. That wasn't much above eight months ago. But the day
Evie and I were tied up, the first of last week, Lady Denin married her
cousin, d'Arcy of the --th Gurkhas. Quick work--what? No heartbreak
there!"

As there came no answer, Severne supposed that his visitor felt no
interest in this bit of gossip apropos of war widows. He glanced up
from his hard, flat pillow at