A Close Run Thing
“a drummer began to beat reveille in the Fusiliers’ lines, echoing around the barrack squares so as to wake even Hervey in the next-door quarters. He stretched his arms wearily in the chair where he had spent half the night, his greatcloak falling from his shoulders to reveal one of the cotton shirts he had brought from the Peninsula. Around him on the floor lay crumpled sheets of writing paper, testament to his hard cross-country ride to rejoin hounds or to reach the field of battle. In front o...f him, on the desk, lay one sheet three-quarters filled by his careful handwriting. Only two clean sheets lay in reserve. When he had begun his bold dash, in the early hours, he had written freely, expressively, with some passion even. But when he had read that first draft he had been unhappy with its presumption and had taken a new sheet. Each subsequent draft had lost a little more in candour until, shortly before dawn, he had settled for something not unlike a dispatch from the Duke of Wellington’s headquarters.MoreLess
Read book A Close Run Thing for free
Write Review:
User Reviews: