had conjured about Henry—but it was distant, only there to show her how far removed that was from this. I have seen him angry, upset—I have done my share of provoking him—but I have never seen him lose his dignity. To their own eyes, the battlefield still lay around them but it had lost perspective, seeming compressed and two-dimensional. When she realised it was Karl, she found it completely beyond her power to move or speak.
What can I compare it to? Imagine your first glimpse of countryside after years in the desert. The object is to find Karl, not to indulge yourself. He had barely begun to turn away as a shot cracked the air. Charlotte, please… What? What am I supposed to do? I cannot believe you are evil! You're like light streaming through the door from another world.
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