"Okewood!" said the young man and touched the other on the
shoulder, "isn't it Desmond Okewood? By Jove, I am glad to see
you!"
The new-comer turned quickly.
"Why, hullo," he said, "if it isn't Maurice Strangwise! But, good
heavens, man, surely I saw your name in the casualty list...
missing, wasn't it?"
"Yep!" replied the other smiling, "that's so! It's a long story
and it'll keep! But tell me about yourself... this," he kicked
the kit-bag with the toe of his boot, looks like a little leave!
Just in from France?"
He smiled again, baring his firm, white teeth, and looking at him
Desmond suddenly remembered, as one recalls a trifle, his trick
of smiling. It was a frank enough smile but... well, some people
smile too much.
"Got in just now by the leave train," answered Desmond.
"How much leave have you got?" asked Strangwise.
"Well," said the other, "it's a funny thing, but I don't know!"
"Say, are they giving unlimited leave over there now?"
Desmond laughed.
"Hardly," he replied. "But the War Office just applied for me to
come over and here I am! What they want me for, whether it's to
advise the War Council or to act as Quartermaster to the Jewish
Battalion I can't tell you! I shan't know until tomorrow morning!
In the meantime I'm going to forget the war for this evening!"
"What are you going to do to-night?" asked Strangwise.
Pages:
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34