Commander von BrüningTO RESUME my story in narrative form.
I was awakened at ten o'clock on the 19th, after a long and delicious sleep, by Davies's voice outside, talking his unmistakable German. Looking out, in my pajamas, I saw him on the quay above in conversation with a man in a long mackintosh coat and a gold-laced navy cap. He had a close-trimmed auburn beard, a keen, handsome face, and an animated manner. It was raining in a raw air.
They saw me, and Davies said: 'Hullo, Carruthers! Here's Commander von Brüning from the Blitz—that's "meiner Freund" Carruthers.' (Davies was deplorably weak in terminations.)
The commander smiled broadly at me, and I inclined an uncombed head, while, for a moment, the quest was a dream, and I myself felt unutterably squalid and foolish. I ducked dow
