Chapter 14

           Dickawokeatfiveafteralongdreamofwar,walkedtothewindowandstaredoutitattheZugersee.Hisdreamhadbeguninsombremajesty;navyblueuniformscrossedadarkplazabehindbandsplayingthesecondmovementofProkofieff’s"LoveofThreeOranges."Presentlytherewerefireengines,symbolsofdisaster,andaghastlyuprisingofthemutilatedinadressingstation.Heturnedonhisbed-lamplightandmadeathoroughnoteofitendingwiththehalf-ironicphrase:"Non-combatant’sshell-shock."

           Ashesatonthesideofhisbed,hefelttheroom,thehouseandthenightasempty.InthenextroomNicolemutteredsomethingdesolateandhefeltsorryforwhateverlonelinessshewasfeelinginhersleep.Forhimtimestoodstillandtheneveryfewyearsacceleratedinarush,likethequickre-windofafilm,butforNicoletheyearsslippedawaybyclockandcalendarandbirthday,withtheaddedpoignanceofherperishablebeauty.

           EventhispastyearandahalfontheZugerseeseemedwastedtimeforher,theseasonsmarkedonlybytheworkmenontheroadturningpinkinMay,browninJuly,blackinSeptember,whiteagaininSpring.Shehadcomeoutofherfirstillnessalivewithnewhopes,expectingsomuch,yetdeprivedofanysubsistenceexceptDick,bringingupchildrenshecouldonlypretendgentlytolove,guidedorphans.