I must go on, go on for ever holding up my end, to feel sure that nothing can touch me. I must stick to their belief in me to feel safe and to—to”. . . He cast about for a word, seemed to look for it on the sea . . . ‘to keep in touch with’ . . . His voice sank suddenly to a murmur . . . ‘with those whom, perhaps, I shall never see any more. With—with—you, for instance.’
