nt was the magnificent physical fitness
of the man. His was the frame of the pioneer, the man of the
earth's open spaces and uncharted wilds. He looked as hard as
nails, and the woman murmured to herself, as she went on with her
note, "On leave from the front."

Presently, the man stirred, stretched himself and finally sat up.
Then he started, sprang to his feet, and strode easily across the
vestibule to the reception desk. An officer was standing there in
a worn uniform, a very shabby kit-bag by his side, a dirty old
Burberry over his arm.

"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.

Desmond began to check off on his fingers.

"Firstly, I'm going to fill the biggest bath in this hotel with
hot water, get the biggest piece of Pears' soap in London, and
jump in: Then, if my tailor hasn't betrayed me, I'm going to put
on dress clothes, and whilst I am dressing summon Julien (if he's
maitre d'hotel here) to a conference, then I'm going to eat the
best dinner that this pub can provide. Then..."

Strangwise interrupted him.

"The bath is on you, if you like," he said, "but the dinner's on
me and a show afte