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Very sternly, very understandingly, their lives swept before her anew.... Just one little wave from the tide of fate had lapped up, unknowingly, uncaringly, that house upon the sand which a delusion of the spirit had made seem a castle grounded in eternity. Why blind one's self to the truth and call life fair? For what had they fought and suffered and believed and hoped?
The countess incog. was leaning out, scanning the street uncaringly. Why her windows were next to his! He was living next room to an unusual person as unusual as Dr. Mittyford. He hurried up-stairs with a fervid but vague plan to meet her. Maybe she really was a French countess or somepun'. All evening, sitting by the window, he was comforted as he heard her move about her room. He had a friend.
The Flying Corps, at first sight, was an unassimilating environment for a John Gaymer, but this one had not gone in alone and he had certainly not been assimilated. A closely knit and self-isolated group had formed itself there, as it could be trusted to form itself in a house-party or under the shadow of the guillotine, genially unapproachable and uncaringly envied.
And on this night, when she saw their dim forms and heard their low tones as Miss Burton and Van Berg talked earnestly on the farther end of the piazza; when she saw that they grasped hands in parting, and noted the rapt look upon his face as he passed her by uncaringly and unnotingly the revelation came.
It was after she had been looking straight at it for a long time that she realised she Was looking at a picture on her easel. Dimly, uncaringly, she knew what the picture was. But she was thinking only of Karl. It was a long time before her mind really followed her eyes to the picture. It was a sketch of a woman's face. She remembered what a splendid model she had had for it.
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