Adam's Breed by Radclyffe Hall — Read

Now that he was dead and gone, everyone knew how much they had liked poor Fabio. They missed the mild-eyed, deprecatory figure that had wandered about Old Compton Street for more years than they cared to remember. But Nerone knew how much he had loved Fabio, and that was a very different thing. Nerone mourned the friend of his youth, and with him the passing of his own generation.

"I suppose it will be my turn next," said Nerone. "I am not so very much younger than he was; but God grant that I die in Italy -- when this war is ended Nerone goes home."