ristine than she was; and yet in those
instants she incomprehensibly reminded him of Christine. Then she
started to talk in her old manner of a professional and renowned
talker. G.J. listened attentively. They ate. It was astounding that
he could eat. And it was rather surprising that she did not cry out:
"G.J. What the devil's the matter with you to-day?" But she went on
talking evenly, and she made him recount his doings. He related the
conversation at the club, and especially what Bob, the retired judge,
had said about equilibrium on the Western Front. She did not want to
hear anything as to the funeral.

"We'll have champagne," she said suddenly to the parlour-maid, who was
about to offer some red wine. And while the parlour-maid was out of
the room she said to G.J., "There isn't a country in Europe where
champagne is not a symbol, and we must conform."

"A symbol of what?"

"Ah! The unusual."

"And what is there unusual to-day?" he almost asked, but did not
ask. It would, of course, have been utterly monstrous to put such
a question, knowing what he knew. He thought: I'm not a bit nearer
telling her than I was when I came.

After the parlour-maid had poured out the champagne Concepcion picked
up her glass and absently glanced through it and said:

"You know, G.J., I shouldn't be in the least surprised to hear that
Carly was killed out there. I shouldn't, really."

In amazement G.J. ceased to eat.

"You needn't look at me like that," she said. "I'm quite serious. One
may as well face the risks. _He_ does. Of course they're all heroes.
There are millions of heroes. But I do honestly believe that my Carly
would be braver than anyone. By the way, did I ever tell you he was
considered the best shot in Cheshire?"

"No. But I knew," answered G.J. feebly. He would have expected her to
be a little condescending towards Carlos, to whom in brains she was
infinitely superior. But no! Carlos had mastered her, and she was
grateful to him for mastering her. He had taught her in three weeks
more than she had learnt on two continents in thirty years. She
talked of him precisely as any wee wifie might have talked of the
soldier-spouse. And she called him "Carly"!

Neither of them had touched the champagne. G.J. decided that he would
postpone any attempt to tell her until her cousin arrived; her cousin
might arrive at any moment now.

While the parlour-maid presented potatoes Concepcion deliberately
ignored her and sai