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Summary
Back in the Arctic, stuffed two to a sleeping sack and trying to keep each other alert, he and James used to name every good type of thing they would eat when they got back, knowing–as they thought–the time would never come.
'Cream puffs', James had sighed one frigid night in a partial feverish delirium. Francis could hardly see him but for the lightest starlight, yet he had heard the smile evident in his voice all the same. That close, he had nearly felt it.
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Hailed as heroes on their miraculous return to England, Francis and James fail to cope, but nonetheless manage to fall together.