reaching for the match-box when I chanced to look up, and paused to
marvel at a singular beauty in the atmosphere outside.

It seemed a final atonement of sky and earth in one sheet of vivid
blue. Of form I could see nothing; the heavens, the waters of the
creek below, the woods on the opposite shore were simply
indistinguishable--blotted out in this one colour. If you can recall
certain advertisements of Mr. Reckitt, and can imagine one of these
transparent, with a soft light glowing behind it, you will be as near
as I can help you to guessing the exact colour. And, but for a
solitary star and the red lamp of a steamer lying off the creek's
mouth, this blue covered the whole firmament and face of the earth.

I lit my cigarette and stepped out upon the verandah. In a minute or
so a sound made me return, fetch a cap from the hall, and descend the
terrace softly.

My feet trod on bluebells and red-robins, and now and then crushed
the fragrance out of a low-lying spike of gorse. I knew the flowers
were there, though in this curious light I could only see them by
peering closely. At the foot of the terrace I pulled up and leant
over the oak fence that guarded the abrupt drop into the creek.

There was a light just underneath. It came from the deck of the
hospital-ship, and showed me two figures standing there--a woman
leaning against the bulwarks, and a man beside her. The man had a
fiddle under his chin, and was playing "Annie Laurie," rather slowly
and with a deal of sweetness.

When the melody ceased, I craned still further over the oak fence and