grinned. "Anyway, I was only going to remark
that if I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life here, I'd
paint the town vermilion for a week and then cut my throat."

"I quite agree with you," said Doggie.

"What are you going to do when the war's over?"

"Who knows what he's going to do? What are you going to do? Fly back
to your little Robinson Crusoe Durdlebury of a Pacific Island? I don't
think so."

Oliver stuck his pipe on the mantelpiece and his hands on his hips and
made a stride towards Doggie.

"Damn you, Doggie! Damn you to little bits! How the Hades did you
guess what I've scarcely told myself, much less another human being?"

"You yourself said it was a good old war and it has taught us a lot of
things."

"It has," said Oliver. "But I never expected to hear Huaheine called
Durdlebury by you, Doggie. Oh, Lord! I must have another drink.
Where's your glass? Say when?"

They parted for the night the best of friends.

Doggie, in spite of the silk pyjamas and the soft bed and the blazing
fire in his room--he stripped back the light-excluding curtains
forgetful of Defence of the Realm Acts, and opened all the windows
wide, to the horror of Peddle in the morning--slept like an
unperturbed dormouse. When Peddle woke him, he lay drowsily while the
old butler filled his bath and fiddled about with drawers. At last
aroused, he cried out:

"What the dickens are you doing?"

Peddle turned with an injured air. "I am matching your ties and socks
for your bottle-green suit, sir."

Doggie leaped out of bed. "You dear old idiot, I can't go about the
streets in bottle-green suits. I've got to wear my uniform." He looked
around the room. "Where the devil is it?"

Peddle's injured air deepened almost into resentment.

"Where the devil----!" Never had Mr. Marmaduke, or his father, the
Canon, used such language. He drew himself up.

"I have given orders, sir, for the uniform suit you wore yesterday to
be sent to the cleaners."

"Oh, hell!" said Doggie. And Peddle, unaccustomed to the vernacular of
the British Army, paled with horror. "Oh, hell!" said Doggie. "Look
here, Peddle, just you get on a bicycle, or a motor-car, or an express
train at once and retrieve that uniform. Don't you understand? I'm a
private soldier. I've got to wear uniform all the time, and I'll have
to stay in this beastly bed until you get it for me."

Peddle fled. The picture that he left on Doggie's mind was that of the
fait