Part 2 (2/2)

”I think it's so nice to see you sitting doith them all,” she cooed; ”it's so cosy for them”

”Is your cup empty?” I said furiously, and held out my hand for it But it wasn't, of course; she couldn't even do that for me

She shook hands with ain And she will

There was once a lady who asked hts,” and ”did the VAD's have to go to the funerals?”

And another who cried out with emotion when she saw the first officer limp in to Mess, ”And can soht they caes on She quivered all over, too, as she looked from one to the other, and I feel sure she went ho, ”What an experiencethe actual wounds!”

Shuffle, shuffle, up the corridor to-night, as I was laying ht, his arm and hand bound up and his pipe in his mouth

He paused by ainst a pillar

”You've done well at tea in the way of visitors,” I remarked ”Six, wasn't it?”

”Yes,” he said, ”and now I've got rid of 'em all, except one”

”Where's the one?”

”In there” He pointed with his pipe to the empty Mess-Room ”He's the father of a subaltern of mine as killed”

”He's come to talk to you about it?”

”Yes”

But he seeainst the pillar and staring at thecutlery

He waited alhed and went in

Biscuits to put out, cheese to put out Hoet this new cheese is, and fresh and good the little bits that fall off the edge! I never eat cheese at hos are like manna

And pears, with the old shopman's trick, little, bitten ones at the bottoar, coffee As one stirs the coffee round in the tin the whole room smells of it, that brown, burnt sht on, let down the blind, stir the fire, close the door of the little bunk, and, looking round it, think what exhilaration of liberty I have here

Let them pile on the rules, invent and insist; yet behind the, secret liberty of an institution that runs like a wind inas I conforhts--few at ht be in so far a land that even the eye of God had lost me

I took the plate of biscuits, the two plates of cheese, one in each hand and one balanced with a new skill on -rooht kept on as yet for economy's sake

Low voices There in the direy dressing-gown, and beside him a little elderly man, his hat on his knees, his anxious, ordinary face turned towards the light

A citizena baker or a brewer, tinker, tailor, or candlestick- of the uniforland, the parcels to send out--always the parcels--week by week And now nothing; no more parcels, no s from Captain Matthew's tired memory and nervous speech