The faint blue light
was the spring evening--the spring evening that, encouraged by God
knows what brave illusion, had penetrated even these desperate
fastnesses. A little breeze accompanied it and the dirty pieces of
paper blew to and fro; then suddenly a shaft of light quivered upon
the blackness, quivered and spread like a golden fan, then flooded the
huge cave with trembling ripples of light. There was even, I dare
swear, at this safe distance, a smell of flowers in the air.
"It's a most lovely ..." Trenchard said, smiling at me, "spring here ... I
find...."
I was compelled by some unexpected sense of fatherly duty to be
practical.
"You've got your things?" I said. "You've found your seat?"
"Well, I didn't know ..." he stammered.
"Where are they?" I asked him.
He was not quite sure where they were. He stood, waving his hands,
whilst the golden sunlight rippled over his face. I was suddenly
irritated.
"But please," I said, "there isn't much time. Four of us men have a
compartment together.
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