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All in It : K(1) Carries On - A Continuation of the First Hundred Thousand by Ian Hay
page 79 of 233 (33%)

"Everything is so strange!" confessed the open-hearted Angus. "Those
dogs we saw just now--the people with their sabots--the country
carts, like wheelbarrows with three wheels--the little shrines at the
cross-roads--the very children talking French so glibly--"

"Wonderful how they pick it up!" agreed Cockerell. But the sarcasm
was lost on his companion, whose attention was now riveted upon an
approaching body of infantry, about fifty strong.

"What troops are those, please?"

Cockerell knitted his brows sardonically.

"It's rather hard to tell at this distance," he said; "but I rather
think they are the Grenadier Guards."

Two minutes later the procession had been met and passed. It consisted
entirely of elderly gentlemen in ill-fitting khaki, clumping along
upon their flat feet and smoking clay pipes. They carried shovels on
their shoulders, and made not the slightest response when called upon
by the soldierly old corporal who led them to give Mr. Cockerell "eyes
left!" On the contrary, engaged as they were in heated controversy or
amiable conversation with one another, they cut him dead.

Angus M'Lachlan said nothing for quite five minutes. Then--

"I suppose," he said almost timidly, "that those were members of a
_Reserve_ Regiment of the Guards?"

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