Free The Steady Running of the Hour: A Novel by Justin Go

an Englishwoman. It’s something in your phrase.
    Imogen nods. —I’ve heard that before. Of course, on paper I’m Swedish. But I hardly know the country. I’ve scarcely seen Stockholm. And if I had to pick a city, I’d take Paris over London in a heartbeat. Oddly enough, I’m quite attached to Berlin, because it reminds me of my childhood. I don’t know what all this adds up to. I’m not French, I’m not a proper Swede at all, and I’m certainly no German.
    —Then you’re English.
    She smiles. —If it pleases you.
    They talk in French awhile and Imogen tells Ashley that his accent is good. Playfully they exchange a few phrases in Greek, a few whispered rhymes in German.
    —Not so loud, Ashley warns. They’ll think you’re a spy. Come to think of it—
    Imogen winks at him. —Spies are everywhere. But I spy only for myself.
    Ashley leads Imogen along the park’s narrow lake, drained for the war, and they pass the new postal hutments where the mail from France is sorted. They sit on a bench before a large field.
    —Would you mind terribly, Imogen says, if I asked you why you joined the army?
    —For the uniform. I thought I’d cut a fine figure. And I got tired of getting white feathers every time I rode the tram.
    —You don’t like to be serious.
    —Not always.
    —Try to be. I want to know.
    Ashley looks at her quizzically. —You may have heard this, but the country’s at war. There was hardly a fellow in my college that didn’t join.
    —Do you always do what the other fellows are doing?
    —No.
    —I didn’t think so. Mr. Walsingham, I’m not trying to be difficult. I may have certain ideas about the war or the army, but I’m the first toadmit they could be entirely wrong. One can’t listen only to people like Mr. Russell any more than one can read the Morning Post . So I want to know why you really—
    —I was bored at Cambridge, Ashley says abruptly. I supposed there had to be more to life than endless Latin. And I was fool enough to worry I’d miss something if I kept out of the war.
    —But you told Ellie you wish to do your duty.
    —And I meant it. After all, one can’t live only for oneself. I’ve tried that, and it isn’t any good.
    —Is going to war your idea of living for others?
    —It could be.
    —And killing people?
    Ashley hesitates. Imogen shakes her head, touching his sleeve.
    —I’m sorry, I don’t mean to put you in the dock. We scarcely know each other and already I feel I’m fouling everything up—
    —It’s a fair question, Ashley says. I suppose the answer is that we ought to kill only in order to save others.
    —It seems a poor trade, killing one person to save another. How would you know you were really saving anyone?
    —I suppose one never knows.
    Imogen looks at Ashley, narrowing her eyes.
    —You’ll forgive me, but you don’t seem particularly bellicose for a solider. I always imagined soldiers being so certain about everything.
    —No thinking man can be certain about anything. Least of all anything complicated. And the war is damned complicated.
    —And climbing?
    Ashley smiles. —No. That’s simple.
    They fall silent. Ashley squints across the lake to the orange-red sun dipping into the water. Imogen looks at her hands.
    —They say it’s very bad in France.
    —I know.
    —Do you think it’s as bad as they say?
    —It must be worse.
    —You know, Ashley. You don’t have to go—
    —Of course I do.
    She shakes her head and puts her hand over Ashley’s. Her palm is cool and the softness of her hand thrills him.
    —You can do anything you like. That’s all I’ve been trying to say. I simply can’t see why anyone who loves to climb mountains ought to go to the war. Many of the Germans are great climbers, aren’t they?
    —Naturally.
    —And they’ve parks like this one in Berlin, and in one of those parks there must be two people like us, talking like this right now, and one of them is going. Don’t tell me it isn’t true, because it