ABSTRACT
The walk to Crowland, the visit to Peterborough cathedral, Ely swimming through the heat of the unsheltered fenland—as I write of them I am distracted, aware of some change which meant 'nevermore'. In the light of later events it is easy to suppose that it was war that brought about great changes. I do not believe that my sense of loss derived either from changes in myself or the world I knew. The expertise of Will Mellows, the fiery yet controlled patriotism of Colman, the calm security of Hereward the Wake's country—I was dismayed, resentful of a past so filled with renown that it both stimulated and imposed a dead hand on my inchoate ambitions.
