"Thought it was you, Sir, as soon as I saw you. But of course I wasn't
going to say anything till you did." It was not the ingratiating
voice now, but that rasping half-whisper he always used for nocturnal
conferences in the front line. "Never heard anything of you, Sir,
since you went down with a Blighty after Guillemont. Beg your pardon,
Sir, but you looked a bit windy as you came in just now, so I thought
I'd keep in support.... Yes, Sir, got my ticket last month--only been
back on my old job a fortnight."

I tapped the parcel that Miss Robinson's own fair hands had made up
for me.

"This a good issue, Sergeant?" I said. "Sound and reliable and all
that?"

"Couldn't be better, Sir. I had my eye on her. We only drew it
ourselves lately. That's the stuff to give 'em. You can safely carry
on with that, Sir ... a perfect match ... exquisite blending of colour
... those art shades are to be very fashionable this season, I assure
you, Sir."

Imperceptibly his hands had resumed their massage, the solicitous
curve had returned to his broad shoulders, his voice was ingratiating
again.

"We have a large range of all the daintiest materials. I believe our
charmeuse, ninons and crêpe-de-Chines to be unrivalled in town, Sir.
A little damp under foot to-day, Sir, but warmer, I think--distinctly
warmer. Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir, _Good_ day, Sir."