The glaring type attracted several passers-by, amongst them a policeman on his beat. When the little old woman came out of the shop her face was screwed up with grief, and she held her apron to her eyes. Red eyes and tear-blotched faces are not uncommon in war-time in a garrison town. The bystanders that gathered round understood as if by common intuition, and the policeman spoke encouragement in a gruff, kindly tone. Standing there on the kerb, she had her cry. A Boy Scout held the jug her son would never carry again to fetch the supper beer. VII THE WAY THEY HAVE (1915) 1 The coastguard was turning over the earth in one of the tiny cabbage patches that belonged to the row of whitewashed cottages on the flank of the headland. The sun was hot and he paused frequently, straightening up and passing the back of his hand across his forehead. Each time he did this his eyes travelled half-mechanically round the blue curve of the horizon, thence along the foreshore, and so back to the cabbage patch, when he resumed his digging. It was during one of these pauses that he noticed the gulls, and stood motionless for several seconds, shading his eyes from the sun. The tide had turned and left a few yards of sand below high-water mark wet and gleaming in the October sunlight. Half a mile away a couple of gulls were circling curiously above something that lay in the shallow water, stranded by the fast-receding tide. The coastguard watched the birds intently. The dark speck that broke the smooth shimmering surface of the sea might have been seaweed or driftwood, but for them. Seaweed interests nobody--not even sea-gulls. On the other hand what interests sea-gulls interests coastguardmen. Acting apparently along this chain of reasoning, the coastguard dug his spade into the earth, and made off down the winding gravel path that led to the beach. Once on the sand he stopped, said something in an undertone, and glanced back at the coastguard station; he had come without his telescope. For a moment he paused, measuring the distance with his eye. He was a man of leisurely and deliberate habit of mind. It was a question whether he went back for his telescope or walked along the foreshore and decided at close quarters what it was that the tide was shrinking from in the warm morning sunlight. There wasn't much in it one way or the other, he decided after due reflection, and set out accordingly along the wet sands at the edge of the sea. He was in no particular hurry. Whatever his vices, curiosity wasn't one of them. But it was his job; and as he walked he eyed the sea distastefully as if it had been responsible for more jobs than he personally had much use for. One of the sea-gulls soared suddenly and flew swiftly out to sea with quick strong beats of its wings.