Excerpt: ...her good and cheers her. She often speaks of you." Nosey returned to Portsmouth and his ship. His mess-the mess-deck itself-was agog with rumours. Had he heard the "buzz"? Nosey had not. "I bin to London to see a fren," he explained. Then they told him. The battle-cruiser to which he belonged had been ordered to join the Mediterranean Fleet. That was Monday; they were to sail for Malta on Thursday. And Janie was dying in the Middlesex Hospital. The next visiting day found him at Janies bedside. But, instead of his spick-and-span serge suit of "Number Ones" and carefully ironed blue collar, Nosey wore a rusty suit of "civvies" (civilian clothes). Instead of being clean-shaven, an inconsiderable moustache was feeling its way through his upper lip. "Wheres your sailor clothes?" asked Janie weakly. Nosey looked round to reassure himself that they were not overheard. "I done a bunk " he whispered. Janie gazed at him with dismayed eyes. "Not-not deserted?" Nosey nodded. "Dont you take on, Janie. S only sos I can stay near you." He pressed her dry hand. "I got a barrer-whelks an periwinkles. Ive saved a bit o money. An now I can stay near you an come ere visiting days." Janie was too weak to argue or expostulate. It may have been that she was conscious of a certain amount of pride in Noseys voluntary outlawry for her sake; and she was glad enough to have someone to sit with her on visiting days and tell her about the outside world she was never to see again. She even went back in spirit to the proud days when they walked out together. . . . It brought balm to the cough-racked nights and the weary passage of the days. Then the streets echoed with the cries of paper-boys. The nurses whispered together excitedly in their leisure moments; the doctors seemed to acquire an added briskness. Once or twice she heard the measured tramp of feet in the streets below, as a regiment was moved from one quarters to another. England was at war with...