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"So;" he said, heavily, "Marion wants me for the money she thinks
I'm going to have, and mother wants me to marry to keep me safe!
By God, it's a dirty world, isn't it?"
Suddenly he was gone, and Clayton, following uneasily to the doorway,
heard a slam below. When, some hours later, Graham had not come
back, he fell into the heavy sleep that follows anxiety and brings
no rest. In the morning he found that Graham had gone back to the
garage and taken his car, and that he had not returned.
Afterward Clayton was to look back and to remember with surprise
how completely the war crisis had found him absorbed in his own
small group. But perhaps in the back of every man's mind war was
always, first of all, a thing of his own human contacts. It was
only when those were cleared up that he saw the bigger problem.
The smaller questions loomed so close as to obscure the larger
vision.
He went out into the country the next day, a cold Sunday, going
afoot, his head down against the wind, and walked for miles.


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