Other Paths to Glory
“Only now there was a new ghost at his back to remind him of what lay beyond the town. For it had always been here, on the slope just beyond the high-water mark of the last German offensive of 1918, that Charles Emerson had stopped the car as though to draw breath before going on through the little town to the start lines of the 1916 British advance.
Obediently he slowed the car down and pulled in to the roadside, staring across the drab roofs at the second Golden Virgin, the replacement for... that finally lost without a trace during the war’s closing convulsion. When the Virgin fell, the war would end - that superstition at least had been not far off the mark.
Abruptly he reached for the starter, conscious of the girl beside him.
‘I’m sorry. I suppose we’d better get on,’ he apologised.
‘There’s no hurry. Our rooms in Arras are booked, so if you want to stop and look at anything, I do not mind - I quite understand,’ she said.MoreLess
Obediently he slowed the car down and pulled in to the roadside, staring across the drab roofs at the second Golden Virgin, the replacement for... that finally lost without a trace during the war’s closing convulsion. When the Virgin fell, the war would end - that superstition at least had been not far off the mark.
Abruptly he reached for the starter, conscious of the girl beside him.
‘I’m sorry. I suppose we’d better get on,’ he apologised.
‘There’s no hurry. Our rooms in Arras are booked, so if you want to stop and look at anything, I do not mind - I quite understand,’ she said.MoreLess
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