On her unwounded arm the baby slept.

In front of them, and unregarded, filed one by one those shadows who had drunk the day before too deeply of the waters of forgetfulness.

To-day, instead, they were to drink the water of remembrance, poured out for them with no uncertain hand.

And somewhere very far away, it may have been that Justice sat with her ironic smile watching men judge their shadows.

She had watched them so long about that business.