there a while, and then went out and went on with the mission. The captain said in his report they had some kind of a religious service in the ship. It must have been painful.'
In the warm, rosy glow of the sunset there was still beauty in the world. 'I wonder they went in there,' she observed.
'I wondered about that, just at first,' he said. 'I'd have passed it by, myself, I think. Although… well, I don't know. But thinking it over, I'd say they had to go in there. It was the only place they had the key chart for-that, and Delaware Bay. They were the only two places that they could get into safely. They just had to take advantage of the knowledge of the minefields that they had.'
She nodded. 'You lived there?'
'Not in New London itself,' he said quietly. 'The base is on the other side of the river, the east side. I've got a home about fifteen miles away, up the coast from the river entrance. Little place called West Mystic.'
She said, 'Don't talk about it if you'd rather not.'
He glanced at her. 'I don't mind talking, not to some people. But I wouldn't want to bore you.' He smiled gently. 'Nor to start crying, because I'd seen the baby.'
She flushed a little. 'When you let me use your cabin to change in,' she said, 'I saw your photographs. Are those your family?'
He nodded. 'That's my wife and our two kids,' he said a little proudly. 'Sharon. Dwight goes to grade school, and Helen, she'll be going next fall. She goes to a little kindergarten right now, just up the street.'
She had known for some time that his wife and family were very real to him, more real by far than the half- life in a far corner of the world that had been forced upon him since the war. The devastation of the Northern Hemisphere was not real to him, as it was not real to her. He had seen nothing of the destruction of the war, as she had not; in thinking of his wife and of his home it was impossible for him to visualize them in any other circumstances than those in which he had left them. He had little imagination, and that formed a solid core for his contentment in Australia.
She knew that she was treading upon very dangerous ground. She wanted to be kind to him, and she had to say something. She asked a little timidly, 'What's Dwight going to be when he grows up?'
'I'd like him to go to the Academy,' he said. 'The Naval Academy. Go into the navy, like I did. It's a good life for a boy-I don't know any better. Whether he can make the grade or not, well, that's another thing. His mathematics aren't so hot, but it's too early yet to say. He won't be ten years old till next July. But I'd like to see him get into the Academy. I think he wants it, too.'
'Is he keen on the sea?' she asked.
He nodded. 'We live right near the shore. He's on the water, swimming and running the outboard motor, most of the summer.' He paused thoughtfully. 'They get so brown,' he said. 'All kids seem to be the same. I sometimes think that kids get browner than we do, with the same amount of exposure.'
'They get very brown here,' she remarked. 'You haven't started him sailing yet?'
'Not yet,' he said. 'I'm going to get a sailboat when I'm home on my next leave.'
^He raised himself from the rail that they had been sitting on, and stood for a moment looking at the sunset glow.
'I guess that'll be next September,' he said quietly. 'Kind of late in the season to start sailing, up at Mystic.'
She was silent, not knowing what to say.
He turned to her. 'I suppose you think I'm nuts,' he said heavily. 'But that's the way I see it, and I can't seem to think about it any other way. At any rate, I don't cry over babies.'
She rose and turned to walk with him down the jetty.
'I don't think you're nuts,' she said.
They walked together in silence to the beach.
4
Next morning, Sunday, everyone in the Holmes household got up in pretty good shape, unlike the previous Sunday that Commander Towers had spent with them. They had gone to bed after a reasonable evening, unexcited by a party. At breakfast Mary asked her guest if he wanted to go to church, thinking that the more she got him out of the house the less likely he was to give Jennifer measles.
'I'd like to go,' he said, 'if that's convenient.'
'Of course it is,' she said. 'Just do whatever you like. I thought we might take tea down to the club this afternoon, unless you've got anything else you'd like to do.'
He shook his head. 'I could use another swim. But I'll have to get back to the ship tonight sometime, after supper, maybe.'
'Can't you stay over till tomorrow morning?'
He shook his head, knowing her concern about the measles. 'I'll have to get back tonight.'
He went out into the garden directly the meal was over to smoke a cigarette, thinking to ease Mary's mind. Moira found him there when she came out from helping with the dishes, sitting in a deck chair looking out over the bay. She sat down beside him, 'Are you really going to church?' she asked.
'That's right,' he said.
'Can I come too?'
He turned his head, and looked at her in surprise. 'Why, certainly. Do you go regularly?'
She smiled. 'Not once in a blue moon,' she admitted. 'It might be better if I did. Maybe I wouldn't drink so much.'
He pondered that one for a moment. 'Could be,' he said uncertainly. 'I don't know that that's got a lot to do with it.'
'You're sure you wouldn't rather go alone?'
'Why, no,' he said. 'I'd like your company.'
As they left to walk down to the church Peter Holmes was getting out the garden hose to do some watering before the sun grew hot. His wife came out of the house presently. 'Where's Moira?' she asked.
'Gone to church with the captain.'
'Moira? Gone to church?'
He grinned. 'Believe it or not, that's where she's gone.'
She stood in silence for a minute. 'I hope it's going to be all right,' she said at last.
'Why shouldn't it?' he asked. 'He's dinkum, and she's not a bad sort when you get to know her. They might even get married.'
She shook her head. 'There's something funny about it. I hope it's going to be all right,' she repeated.
'It's no concern of ours, anyway,' he said. 'Lots of things are going a bit weird these days.'
She nodded, and started pottering about the garden while he watered. Presently she said, 'I've been thinking, Peter. Could we take out those two trees, do you think?'
He came and looked at them with her. 'I'd have to ask the landlord,' he said. 'What do you want to take them out for?'
'We've got so little space for growing vegetables,' she said. 'They are so expensive in the shops. If we could take those trees out and cut back the wattle, we could make a kitchen garden here, from here to here.' She indicated with her hands. 'I'm sure we could save nearly a pound a week by growing our own stuff. And it'd be fun, too.'
He went to survey the trees. 'I could get them down all right,' he said, 'and there's a nice bit of firewood in them. It'd be green, of course, too green to burn this winter. We'd have to stack it for a year. The only thing is, getting out the stumps. It's quite a big job, that.'
'There are only two of them,' she said. 'I could help-keep on nibbling at them while you're away. If we could get them out this winter and dig the ground over, I could plant it in the spring and we'd have vegetables all next summer.' She paused. 'Peas and beans,' she said. 'And a vegetable marrow. I'd make marrow jam.'
'Good idea,' he said. He looked the trees up and down. 'They're not very big,' he said. 'It'd be better for the
