'All the same I don't hear any gossip as to what you and I were
afraid of. I wonder if I was a brute to answer her as I
did--and after her nice letter to me? Anyway, it's no wonder
she doesn't write to me any more. And she _did_ tell me such a
lot of news.
'Good-bye. Your writing-pad is really ripping. Likewise pen.
Hullo, there go some more shells. I really must get back and
see what's up.--Your loving
'DESMOND.'
Meanwhile in the seething world of London, where the war-effort of
an Empire was gathered up into one mighty organism, the hush of
expectancy grew ever deeper. Only a few weeks or days could now
divide us from the German rush on Paris and the coast. Behind the
German lines all was movement and vast preparation. Any day England
might rise to find the last fight begun.
Yet morning after morning all the news that came was of raids,
endless raids, on both sides--a perpetual mosquito fight, buzzing
now here, now there, as information was wanted by the different
Commands.
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