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ingó'to England in a few days'-----And though it's

wrong I know I shall go there, because it is made so
easy for me."


ON FEBRUARY 13th I had landed in France and
again become part of the war machine which
needed so*much flesh and blood to keep it working,
On July aoth the machine automatically returned
me to London, and I was most carefully carried into
a perfect hospital.

There, in a large ward whose windows overlooked
Hyde Park, I lay and listened to the civilian rumour
of London traffic which seemed to be specially sub-
dued for the benefit of the patients. In this apotheosis
(or nirvana) of physical comfort, I had no possible
cause for complaint, and my only material adversity
was the fact that while at Boulogne I had hung my
opal talisman on the bedpost and someone had suc-
cumbed to the temptation. But the opal, as I re-
minded myself, had done its work, and I tried to
regard its disappearance as symbolical. Sunday passed
peacefully, graciously signalized by a visit from two
members of the Royal Family, who did their duty
with the maximum amount of niceness and genuine
feeling. For the best part of a minute I was an object
of sympathetic interest, and I really felt that having
succeeded in becoming a casualty, I was doing the
thing in the best possible style.

On the Monday I became comparatively active
and instructed one of my friends to order a gramo-
phone to be sent to A Company, plus a few "com-
forts" for the officers. But Velmore and the others