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after drifting from swimming-bath to hairdresser, buy-
ing a few fiction-magazines on his way. Later on the
cocktail bar would claim him; and after that he would
compensate himself for Clitherland with a dinner that
defied digestion.

"Fivers" melted rapidly at the Olympic, and many
of them were being melted by people whose share in
the national effort was difficult to diagnose. In the
dining-room I began to observe that some non-com-
batants were doing themselves pretty well out of the
War. They were people whose faces lacked nobility,
as they ordered lobsters and selected colossal cigars. I
remember drawing Durley's attention so some such
group when he dined with me among the mirrors and
mock magnificence. They had concluded their spec-
tacular feed with an ice-cream concoction, and now
they were indulging in an afterthought—stout and
oysters. I said that I supposed they must be profiteers.
For a moment Durley regarded them with unspecula-
tive eyes, but he made no comment; if he found them
incredible, it wasn't surprising; both his brothers had
been killed in action and his sense of humour had
suffered in proportion. I remarked that we weren't
doing so badly ourselves and replenished his cham-
pagne glass. Durley was on sick leave and had come
to Liverpool for a night so as to see me and one or
two others at the Depot. The War was very much on
his mind, but we avoided discussing it during dinner.
Afterwards, when we were sitting in a quiet corner,
he gave me an account of the show at Delville Wood
on September 3rd. Owing to his having been wounded
in the throat, he spoke in a strained whisper. His
narrative was something like this:

"After our first time up there—digging a trench in