“Now what have I said, Dan?” she whispered nervously, biting her fingers. She was terrified that she had lost him . . . yes, in a way, strangely enough, she was terrified at losing his love, as if she had him securely in her possession, as a loving husband for a long time . . . that she had lost him by some foolish phrase. “Nothing,” he muttered solidly. He crossed his hands on his chest and began to pace up and down once more. It was a long time until he spoke. She tried to get enraged with him and could not do so. She began to pity herself. “It’s waiting like this that’s hard,” he said suddenly in a whisper. “I don’t mind dying. It’s not that I mind. It’s waiting without a chance of knowing what’s going to happen. They talk of the bravery of those louts that get the V.C. What are they but stupid carrot heads? Theirs is the bravery of the dull-witted ox. A man must be intelligent to be brave. It’s only the intelligent man that can visualize danger. If he is brave he never seeks danger, but he seeks dangerous methods of life. You see the difference? Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. I had this all worked out a long time ago so I don’t need to discuss it very much. But this is the point I have to explain now. There is no danger in open warfare. There’s merely death, and death is not dangerous. The Russians proved that. Not recently, but in Bielinsky’s time. That is, of course, they proved it in relation to their own needs. But according to my own calculations and discoveries, death brings us back into the great consciousness of the Universe, which is eternal. Therefore death, properly speaking, is not death. It is a second stage of birth. No, that’s quite wrong. I can see where that would lead me. There is neither birth nor death. But . . . All that’s out of the count. We have to tackle a minor question. Obviously it’s a minor question. Now that’s better. Now we see death is not a danger. But defeat is a danger. Defeat by one’s enemies. Not defeat by one’s friends. But of course there are no friends. Friends is a bourgeois word. It has no longer any meaning. So defeat in the true sense means defeat by one’s enemies. It’s synonymous. Well, I face defeat. Therefore. . . .” Suddenly he waved his right hand in a circular fashion above his head and then pointed it fiercely at the wall to his left. “It’s waiting like this that’s hard,” he cried fiercely. “I’ve been out with a gun many a time. I’ve been shot at. I have two holes in me. That’s nothing. You don’t know what’s happening because you become an animal. But waiting is different. You are in command. That’s different. A brain, a mind, a great eye, probing the unknown. But . . .” He stopped suddenly and tittered audibly in his throat.