"A chap like Thomson hasn't very much discretion, you see," Ralph
Conyers remarked. "You'll have to wake him up a bit, Gerry, if you
mean to get any fun out of life."

There was just the faintest look of trouble in Geraldine's face. She
remained perfectly loyal, however.

"Some of us take life more seriously than others," she sighed. "Hugh
is one of them. When one remembers all the terrible things he must
have seen, though, it is very hard to find fault with him."

They turned into the Square and paused before Olive's turning.

"You're coming down with me, Ralph, and you too, Geraldine?" she
invited.

Conyers shook his head regretfully.

"I'm due at the Admiralty at four to receive my final instructions,"
he said. "I must move along at once."

The smile suddenly faded from his lips. He seemed to be listening to
the calling of the newsboys down the street. "I don't know what my
instructions are going to be," he continued, dropping his voice a
little, "but I'm sick of making war the way our chaps are doing it.
If ever I'm lucky enough to get one of those murderous submarines, I
can promise you one thing--there'll be no survivors."

For a moment or two they neither of them spoke. From out of the
windows of the house before which they were standing came the music