"In sport, at any rate," his neighbour assented. "He has always been
one of the most popular young men about town, but of course the women
will spoil him now."

"Is it my fancy," he asked, "or was he not reported a prisoner?"

"He was missing twice, once for over a week," Mrs. Cunningham
replied. "There are all sorts of stories as to how he got back to the
lines. A perfect young dare-devil, I should think. I must talk to Mr.
Daniell for a few minutes or he will never publish my reminiscences."

She leaned towards her neighbour on the other side and Major Thomson
was able to resume the role of attentive observer, a role which
seemed somehow his by destiny. He listened without apparent interest
to the conversation between Geraldine Conyers and the young man whom
they had been discussing.

"I think," Geraldine complained, "that you are rather overdoing your
diplomatic reticence, Captain Granet. You haven't told me a single
thing. Why, some of the Tommies I have been to see in the hospitals
have been far more interesting than you."

He smiled.

"I can assure you," he protested, "it isn't my fault. You can't
imagine how fed up one gets with things out there, and the newspapers
can tell you ever so much more than we can. One soldier only sees a
little bit of his own corner of the fight, you know."

"But can't you tell me some of your own personal experiences?" she