I didn’t hear the soft knock on the door. I did hear the easy squeak the door had always made and felt the slight movement of the bed as someone sat...on it. It was, of course, Angie coming to wake me up. There was just enough light to see her. Her dirty blond hair was hanging loosely around her face. She had no makeup on and looked like an angel sitting there. She had a serious look on her face, almost like she was puzzled by something. Unthinking, I put my hand on her cheek, just holding it. He begged me to do all I could to protect him from the marksmanship of Braxton-Clark. I was amazed at his behaviour, as Greenaway always gave the impression of being fearless, yet he was blubbing like a schoolboy. He suggested I not load the ball into Braxton-Clark pistol, as he, Greenaway, was certain to be shot. He swore he was no marksman and had only fired a pistol when putting injured horses out of their agony on the field of Waterloo. Greenaway and I had served together throughout. More

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