He did not say anything. He was thinking.
“Now I am depressed myself,” I said. “That’s why I never think about these things. I never think and yet when I begin to talk I say the things I have found out in my mind without thinking.”
“I had hoped for something.”
“Defeat?”
“No. Something more.”
“There isn’t anything more. Except victory. It may be worse.”
“I hoped for a long time for victory.”
“Me too.”
“Now I don’t know.”
“It has to be one or the other.”
“I don’t believe in victory any more.”
“I don’t. But I don’t believe in defeat. Though it may be better.”
“What do you believe in?”
“In sleep,” I said. He stood up.
“I am very sorry to have stayed so long. But I like so to talk with you.”
“It is very nice to talk again. I said that about sleeping, meaning nothing.”
We stood up and shook hands in the dark.
“I sleep at 307 now,” he said.
“I go out on post early Tomorrow.”
“I’ll see you when you come hack.”
“We’ll have a walk and talk together.” I walked with him to the door.
“Don’t go down,” he said. “It is very nice that you are back. Though not so nice for you.” He put his hand on my shoulder.
“It’s all right for me,” I said. “Good-night.”
“Good-night. Ciaou!”
“Ciaou!” I said. I was deadly sleepy.