'What's the trouble, boy?' asked Albert anxiously.

'No--no trouble--it's to meet somebody.' Joe lifted his dark-blue eyes in
confusion towards his corporal.

'Meet somebody!' repeated the corporal, watching his young pal with keen
blue eyes. 'It's all right, then; nothing wrong?'

'No--nothing wrong. I'm not going,' said Joe.

Albert was old and shrewd enough to see that nothing more should be said
before the housewife. He also saw that Joe did not want to take him into
confidence. So he held his peace, though he was piqued.

The two soldiers went into town, smartened up. Albert knew a fair
number of the boys round about; there would be plenty of gossip in the
market-place, plenty of lounging in groups on the Bath Road, watching the
Saturday evening shoppers. Then a modest drink or two, and the movies.
They passed an agreeable, casual, nothing-in-particular evening, with
which Joe was quite satisfied. He thought of Belbury Station, and of
M.S. waiting there. He had not the faintest intention of meeting her. And
he had not the faintest intention of telling Albert.

And yet, when the two men were in their bedroom, half undressed, Joe
suddenly held out the telegram to his corporal, saying: 'What d'you think
of that?'

Albert was just unbuttoning his braces. He desisted, took the telegram
form, and turned towards the candle to read it.