Sutton had gone through into the slip of white tiled lavatory beyond. She
followed him.

"My God," he said, "yes. He's taken his toothbrush and his sleeping
draught.... You know he tried to get leave yesterday and they wouldn't
give it him?"

"No. That makes it simply awful."

"Pretty awful."

"Billy--we must get him back."

"I--I don't know about that. He isn't much good, is he? I think we'd
better let him go."

"Don't you see how awful it'll be for the Corps?"

"The Corps? Does that matter? McClane would take us all on to-morrow."

"I mean for _us_. You and me and Gwinnie. He's our Corps, and we're it."

"Sharlie--with the Germans coming into Ghent do you honestly believe
anybody'll remember what he did or didn't do?"

"Yes. We're going to stick on with the Belgian Army. It'll be remembered
against _us_. Besides, it'll kill his father."

"He'll do that any way. He's rotten through and through."