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Howard asked me, "How long do you suppose we shall have to sit here?"

"Till it's over, I suppose. The last one went on for four hours." I paused, and then I said, "Will any one be anxious about you?"

He said rather quickly, "Oh, no. I live alone, you see--in chambers."

I nodded. "My wife knows I'm here. I thought of ringing her up, but it's not a very good thing to clutter up the lines during a raid."

"They ask you not to do that," he said.

Presently Andrews brought the Marsala. When he had gone away, Howard lifted up his glass and held it to the light. Then he remarked, "Well, there are less comfortable ways of passing a raid."

I smiled. "That's true enough." And then I turned my head. "You said you were in France when all this started up. Did you come in for many air raids there?"

He put his glass down, seven eighths full. "Not real raids. There was some bombing and machine gunning of the roads, but nothing very terrible."

He spoke so quietly about it that it took a little time for me to realize what he had said. But then I ventured,