"Dormer, for instance," said Bobby; "I think he comes under the
head of fool-men. He mopes like a sick owl."

"That 's where you make your mistake, my son. Dormer isn't a fool
yet, but he's a dashed dirty soldier, and his room corporal makes
fun of his socks before kit-inspection. Dormer, being two-thirds
pure brute, goes into a corner and growls."

"How do you know'?" said Bobby admiringly.

"Because a Company commander has to know these things - because,
if he does not know, he may have crime - ay, murder - brewing
under his very nose and yet not see that it's there. Dormer is
being badgered out of his mind - big as he is - and he hasn't
intellect enough to resent it. He's taken to quiet boozing, and,
Bobby, when the butt of a room goes on the drink, or takes to
moping by himself, measures are necessary to pull him out of
himself."

"What measures? 'Man can't run round coddling his men for ever."

"No. The men would precious soon show him that he was not wanted.
You've got to -

Here the Colour-sergeant entered with some papers; Bobby reflected
for a while as Revere looked through the Company forms.

"Does Dormer do anything, Sergeant?" Bobby asked with the air of
one continuing an interrupted conversation.