?" He saw the slight frown on her face and leant forward
quickly. "My dear, don't misunderstand me. I don't want to be
flippant and cynical. But I'm just a plain, ordinary man--and I'm
rather tired. When this show is over I want peace and rest and
comfort. And I rather feel that it's up to the damned fools who let us
in for it to clear up the mess themselves for a change."

"But you won't later, old boy," said the girl; "not after you've found
yourself again. You'll have to be up and doing; it will stifle you to
sit still and do nothing." She looked thoughtfully out to sea and
then, as he kept silent, she went on slowly, "I guess we all sat still
before this war; drifted along the line of least resistance. We've got
to cut a new way, Derek, find a new path, which will make for the good
of the show. And before we can find the path, we've got to find
ourselves."

She turned towards him and for a long minute they looked into one
another's eyes, while the gulls circled and screamed above them. Then
slowly she bent forward and kissed him on the mouth. . . . "Go and
find yourself, my dear," she whispered. "Go and make good. And when
you have, if you still want me, I'll come to you."

* * * * *

At the touch of her lips Vane closed his eyes. It seemed only a few
seconds before he opened them again, but Margaret was gone. And then
for a while he sat, idly throwing stones at the overturned bottle.
Just once he laughed, a short, hard laugh with no humour in it, before
he turned to follow her. But when he reached the top of the sand dune,
Margaret was almost out of sight in the distance.

Next day he crossed to England in the _Guildford Castle_.

CHAPTER IV

Derek Vane did not remain long in hospital. As soon as the dressings
for his shoulder had become quite straightforward, the machine, in the
shape of two doctors from Millbank who formed the Board, took him in
its clutches once more and deposited him at a convalescent home. Not
one of the dreary, routine-like places which have been in the past
associated with convalescence, but a large country house, kindly placed
at the disposal of the War Office by its owner.

"Rumfold Hall for you, Vane," said the senior of the two doctors. "A
charming house; Lady Patterdale--a charming woman."

"Rumfold Hall!" echoed Vane. "Good Heavens! I know it well. Danced
there often during the old _regime_."

"The old regime?" The doc