"I suppose now an army officer--one of your born gentlemen--when a back-from-leave train goes out from any of the great stations--Paddington, say--to the front . . . He knows how all the men are feeling. . . . But not what the married women think . . . or the . . . the girl. . . ." She said to herself: "Damn it, how clumsy I am getting! . . . I used to be able to take his hide off with a word. Now I take sentences at a time. . . ." She went on with her uninterrupted sentence to Cowley: "Of course he may never be going to see his only son again, so it makes him sensitive. . . . The officer at Paddington, I mean. . . ." She said to herself: "By God, if that beast does not give in to me to-night he never _shall_ see Michael again. . . . Ah, but I got him. . . ." Tietjens had his eyes closed, round each of his high-coloured nostrils a crescent of whiteness was beginning. And increasing. . . . She felt a sudden alarm and held the edge of the table with her extended arm to steady herself. . . . Men went white at the nose like that when they were going to faint. . . . She did not want him to faint. . . . But he _had_ noticed the word Paddington. . . . Ninety-eight days before. . . . She had counted every day since. . . . She had got that much information. . . . She had said _Paddington_ outside the house at dawn and he had taken it as a farewell. He _had_ . . . He had imagined himself free to do what he liked with the girl. . . . Well, he wasn't. . . . That was why he was white about the gills. . . . Cowley exclaimed loudly: "Paddington! . . . It isn't from there that back-from-leave trains go. Not for the front: the B.E.F. . . . Not from Paddington. . . . The Glamorganshires go from there to the depot. . . . And the Liverpools. . . . They've got a depot at Birkenhead. . . . Or is that the Cheshires? . . ." He asked of Tietjens: "Is it the Liverpools or the Cheshires that have a depot at Birkenhead, sir? . . . You remember we recruited a draft from there when we were at Penhally. ... At any rate, you go to Birkenhead from Paddington. . . . I was never there myself. . . . They say it's a nice place. . . ." Sylvia said--she did not want to say it: "It's quite a nice place . . . but I should not think of staying there for ever. . . ." Tietjens said: "The Cheshires have a training camp--not a depot--near Birkenhead. And of course there are R.G.A.'s there. . . ." She had been looking away from him. . . . Cowley exclaimed: