For years Austin Selwyn had stood apart, mingling with those who were

enduring the sword-thrusts of fate, as an author chats with the players
on the stage between the acts
For years Austin Selwyn had stood apart, mingling with those who were
enduring the sword-thrusts of fate, as an author chats with the players
on the stage between the acts. Even the great tragedy of war had
served only to enrich the processes of his mind. It is true he had
known compassion, sorrow, and anger through it, but they were only
counterfeit emotions, born of the grip of war on his imagination.


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