shakes her head slightly, or perhaps it only trembles a little on its
stem. 'Now, now, good news doesn't kill.'

MRS. TWYMLEY. 'We're glad, Mrs. Dowey.'

MRS. DOWEY. 'You're sure?'

MR. WILLINGS. 'Quite sure. He has arrived.'

MRS. DOWEY. 'He is in London?'

MR. WILLINGS. 'He is. I have spoken to him.'

MRS. MICKLEHAM. 'You lucky woman.'

They might see that she is not looking lucky, but experience has told
them how differently these things take people.

MR. WILLINGS, marvelling more and more as he unfolds his tale, 'Ladies,
it is quite a romance, I was in the----' he looks around cautiously, but
he knows that they are all to be trusted--'in the Church Army quarters
in Central Street, trying to get on the track of one or two of our
missing men. Suddenly my eyes--I can't account for it--but suddenly my
eyes alighted on a Highlander seated rather drearily on a bench, with
his kit at his feet.'

THE HAGGERTY WOMAN. 'A big man?'

MR. WILLINGS. 'A great brawny fellow.' The Haggerty Woman groans. '"My
friend," I said at once, "welcome back to Blighty." I make a point of