into the deep shady chasm. Even a dip in the
sea at Mount Lavinia wouldn't be bad now,--or, better still, a dive
into Como from a rowboat; you remember that hot summer we went to
Como? I'll tell you another thing that wouldn't go down badly either.
Do you remember a great bowl of strawberries and cream with a huge
ice in it, that you had the day before you left school, after that hot
bike ride to Leamington? Not bad, was it?

CECIL (_fiercely_). Shut up, you beast! Oh, curse this idiotic war!
Why are we such fools?

(_Curtain._)

ACT III. LATE AFTERNOON

SCENE. _As before._ CECIL _is discovered reading a letter from
home._

CECIL (_to himself_). Tom dead. Good Lord! What times we have had
together! Where are all the good fellows I used to know? Half of them
dead, and the rest condemned to die! No more yachting on the broads!
No more convivial evenings at the Troc.! No more long nights spinning
yarns in Tom's old rooms in the Temple! Curse this blasted war that
robs one of everything worth having, that dulls every sense of decency
and kills all feeling for beauty, destroys the joy of life, and
mutilates one's dearest friends. Curse it!

(_A sound as of an express train is heard, followed by the
roar of an explosion, while a dense cloud of smoke and dust
rises immediately in view of the trench._)

PORTENTOUS VOICE. Prepare to face eternity!

CECIL (_clenching his fists_). Beast, loathsome beast! Don't think I
am afraid of you.

(_The sounds are repeated as a second shell drops, rather
nearer. A Shadow appears round the dug-out, and hesitates._)

CECIL (_to the Shadow_). Who is that? Is that the Shadow of Fear?

A THIN, QUAVERING VOICE. Yes, shall I come in?

CECIL (_furiously_). Out of my sight, vile, cringing wretch! Not even
your shadow will I tolerate in my presence!

(_A third shell bursts nearer still._)

PORTENTOUS VOICE (_thunderously_). Set not your affections on things
below.

(CECIL _pauses in a listening attitude_).

CECIL (_more quietly, and with a new look in his eyes_). I think I
have forgotten something,--something rather important.

(_Enter the twin Spirits of_ HONOUR _and_ DUTY, _Spirits of a
very noble and courtly mien._)

CECIL (_simply and humbly_). Gentlemen, to my sorrow and loss I had
forgotten you. You are doubly welcome.

THE SPIRIT OF DUTY. Young sir, we thank you. After all, it is but
right that in this hour of danger a