"No, I didn't know. How could I? You never write--"

Mr. Reiss consolidates his defence with the pretence of a grievance.

"I didn't know myself until yesterday. They don't give one much time,
you know."

"They--who?"

"The War Office people. You see, our first battalion has had a lot
of casualties and three of us subs are being taken from the third.
We've got to join the day after to-morrow. Bit of a rush. And I've
got things to get. I'm afraid I must ask you to give me a leg up, uncle.
I'm a bit short--"

"Short? Why, you've got an ample allowance besides your pay and the
Government pays for your outfit at an extravagant rate." Mr. Reiss
never ceases denouncing the extravagance of the Government. He now
adjusts his glasses and glowers at the youngster, who fidgets under
the scrutiny. "Yes, I know. I--" he stammers.

"Well--well?"

"The fact is--when Staples, our captain, went back--he--I--"

A grunt. Then, "Eh--what?"

"He was engaged, you know."

"Well--well?" irritably.