past that had nothing more deadly to fear than the
mistral.

She looked up: *I would like you to take these with
you . . . when you go ... .'

He nodded: 'But surely I will. Why not?' And
once again there was silence.

Presently he said: *About Aurano. There is still
that money untouched at the bank, and of course
there would also be some small pension. And then
there are my boats; they should fetch quite a lot . . .
I must speak of these things/ He flushed awkwardly
because one's own death was an awkward subject,
especially to discuss with one's wife.

*I will try to remember all you say/ she promised.

Leaning forward he kissed her diligent hands, and
at this she must bend lower over the needle in case he
should see the dread in her eyes, and the tears.

'Kind and very dear hands . . .* he whispered.
Then because his own eyes were not guiltless of tears,
he started a boisterous game with his daughter: 4Ho,
hoi! what a monster we have in our net! I believe
we have netted some species of dragon! Shall I
tickle him under his scales — like this?' And Goundran
tickled the child's small ribs.

Aurano wriggled, squealing with laughter.

Madame Simon sat reading a censored letter from
Guillaume; he was somewhere fighting for France.
Yes, but where? If only they might know where! She
said: CI would much like to have his address — it
would comfort me to have his address.' For her mind,
even now, was not quite war-wise, so that sometimes
she said little foolish things, still thinking in terms
of safety and peace. "Never would he fail to give me
an address when he went away even for a night,* she
finished.
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