Books › Blue Book v073-n03 [1941-07], 1941 › scan 54
Scan 54
Blue Book v073-n03 [1941-07], 1941
40 lines. Read by computer on 18 September 2026. No printed page number was found. See the scan on archive.org.
1has come to me that Elsa might be somewhere about here. . . . The Albert Hall, you know—she used to be there always, even when I wasn’t playing. She admired the place and liked it, oddly enough."
3A group of late arrivals, desperately hoping to find a place, came in; it was close to nine, when all music and singing would cease and the cave-dwellers would seek slumber. The newcomers reported a bit of a lull outside.
5"Then let’s go," said Moore.
7HALDON nodded and put the fiddle in its case—a new, cheap case, Moore noticed. As they made for the stairs, he told how the accident had happened, two nights ago. Another blackout accident: a car had crushed the Amati; he himself had been lucky to escape with his life.
9They came up to the street. Moore exchanged a word with the policeman at the stair-head; then he and Haldon started away. In the direction of the City a lurid glare was rising in the sky; somewhere close by the bells of fire-engines were changing furiously; the golden burst of shells was continuous in the sky, the noise of the barrage was terrific, but the heavy bomb explosions was nowhere near. Haldon took Moore by the arm.
11"Isn’t it wonderful?" he shouted.
13"What, this?" Moore waved his stick at the sky. "Is this what you mean?"
15"No, no. Down there in the shelter."
17A rattling hail of shrapnel on the roofs, like rifle-fire, sent them ducking for shelter of the buildings. They hurried on. Moore limped along as fast as he could; the noise was tearing at him frightfully; he wanted to be out of it.
19The three blocks seemed an eternity. They reached the apartment building at last. Here everything was orderly, air-raid wardens and nurses at each stair-landing—the elevator was out of commission; and the acute relief from strain was unspeakably grateful.
21He let Haldon into the apartment, struck a match and lighted a candle. There was a letter under the door. He picked it up and his heart leaped at sight of Caroline’s writing, to be followed by a dart of fear at what the missive might contain. The fear was justified.
23With a word of apology he tore open the envelope and drew out the single sheet, holding it close to the candle-
25"We lost everything when the bomb came."
27flame. The words seemed to go into him like barbs:
29Your letter of the 3rd was forwarded from Sussex. You need not address me further; I’m supporting myself and have no need or desire of anything from you.
31Just one curt, short, angry paragraph—but for Moore everything was contained in the first five words. The 3rd—that was just after she had left. Yes, he had written her that day in bitter fury. She would have got that letter, and none of the others. . . . Things always went that way. None of the others, in which he had poured out his heart to her—only the one bitterly reproachful letter. He would have given anything, now, not to have written it.
33He lifted his head. Haldon glimpsed his face and spoke gently.
35"I’m very sorry; bad news, eh?"
37"The result of my own folly," said Moore, returning to normal with an effort. "What was it you were saying, there on the street—what’s so wonderful? Come on, tell me."
39"Why, those people!" Haldon gestured with his long hand. "You, the rest of them, all of them, living in these caves of the modern world, sleeping, existing! Not one of them is able to do anything of himself; but consider them en masse—calm, steady, singing, enduring! Do you know what a tremendous force is generated by mass psychology? You do, of course. Panic, for example—or this. That’s what is so wonderful, Moore. A
The computer misreads some letters and numbers. Where a name matters to you, read the scan.