What have I done?
What am I fit to do?
Nearly twenty-six and I'm still playing games like a schoolboy!...
What's my father saying?
'We count it death to falter not to die' ...
I've been faltering--and before I know anything about it I shall be thirty--half-time....

This can't go on.

This waiting for Joan is faltering.

If she's not coming to me I must go to her.

If it's not coming right it must end and I must get mended and begin again.