... impulse was to leave her in dignified silence But she was crying, and I he disliked leaving her in tears Dead as was his love for her, and that night, somehow, he knew that it was dead, she was still ... personally, there was always the element she never allowed him to forget, that she had given him a son This was Natalie herself, Natalie at forty-one, girlish, beautiful, fretful and—selfish Natalie ... the situation rather than its tragedy He did not like war, any war He saw no reason why men should kill But this war was a fact He had had no hand in its making, but it was made His first impulse...