It had put off hour by hour and day by day the inevitable.
"If it comes--all right--I'm ready," he whispered to himself.

"But in spite of all I've been through--and have come home to--I don't _want_ to die." There was no use in trying to sleep.

But in this hour he did not want oblivion.

He wanted endless time to think.

And slowly, with infinite care and infallible memory, he went over every detail of what he had seen and heard since his arrival home.