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This book is a bit of a mixed bag really. The romance is quickly introduced and proceeds with relative alacrity, but the essence of it left me unconvinced. The standout part of the whole novel is Wraysford's time in the trenches during the Great War. I have never read a book that has ever given me a clearer idea of what this battlefield was like, and the horrors that these men lived through and then carried with them. It is some of the most powerful writing I have seen, and the chilling coldness with which Wraysford treats all this is really evocative. He has seen it and lived with it for so long, tempered by a lost love, that he merely lingers, waiting for the inevitable. The final third, in which one of Wraysford's descendants enacts an oddysey into her lineage is not so well done. I can understand the intentions, but it just falls wide of the mark, and was in the end so ineffectual as to become almost redundant. I would reccommend it though, if only for Wraysford's wartime experiences.