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F. It’s all nonsense. We looked upon you, my dear Sir John, with reverence, almost with awe. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. “If only because of the way one hurts others if one kicks loose and free, one has to submit. ‘Read that,’ and threw the telegram at me, so that it went into the tureen. I want him immediately, so you can send Frith with my phaeton if you like.
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